


Despite Everything, It's Still You

by MaggicSorceress



Series: Maggic's Undertale Human AU [13]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Cream is good for the soul, Cross is a good man, Dream deserves the world, Dream is S T R E S S E D, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Killer has a hard time, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nightmare is depressed, So does Nightmare, Tags May Change, Violent Thoughts, Witch Curses, but shifted to the left, just guys being dudes, magic exists apparently, the 'apple incident', the thick plottens, we stan him here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22580569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggicSorceress/pseuds/MaggicSorceress
Summary: Nightmare finds a strange and ominous book in the basement, one that his gut instinct tells him he shouldn't open.But there's no such thing as magic.AKA: The author tries to logically make Nightmare having tentacles make sense and just ends up resorting to black magic.
Relationships: Dream/Cross, Error & Nightmare, Error/Ink (background), Nightmare & Dream, Nightmare & Hate, Nightmare/Killer, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Maggic's Undertale Human AU [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623928
Comments: 205
Kudos: 257





	1. Chapter 1

Of all the things he had found while looking through boxes in the basement, this had to have been the strangest. It was not unusual for Nightmare to stumble upon an old looking book or tome, written in some strange variant of Latin, but _this_ one took the cake.

His mother had always been…eccentric. Superstitious to a fault, naïve, aloof, and, for lack of a better word, _weird_. The stories she had told him and Dream growing up were some of the most outlandish things he had ever heard, and he spent a good portion of his time reading so that was saying something. Still, there really wasn’t any proof what she had told them was _wrong_ , and she did raise two generally well-behaved and well-mannered kids but _come on_. A book of witchcraft? Seriously?

Nightmare remembered well; his mother believed in everything and anything. The world was a big place with a lot of cultures and religions, and his mother had sure experienced them all. If the sheer amount of questionable ritualistic things in the boxes in the basement had anything to say about it. Nightmare didn’t let Dream down here. There were some things an older brother just couldn’t let a younger brother see, despite them both being adults now. There was some freaky shit, Nightmare wasn’t going to lie.

But, somehow, he always felt himself drawn back down there to _look_. It fascinated him, the strange obsessions of a mother who was more absent now than she had ever been. It wasn’t that she removed herself from their lives, not entirely. She still sent postcards occasionally, and money that he and Dream didn’t bother to wonder where it came from, but the last thing they had heard was she was somewhere in Asia studying Jujitsu. So, _yeah_ , that was their mother for you.

The tome in question that Nightmare had just discovered was _easily_ twice the width of his forearm, the cover made of a worn leather set with hints of bronze and what he thought to be gold. There was no title and no author, just a strange symbol carved into its cover. It was as ominous as it was intriguing, and Nightmare felt an all too familiar spike of curiosity within him. He was…apprehensive, however. Something about the book just _radiated_ misfortune, like the simple act of opening it would release something terrible and destructive. A rush of adrenaline shot through Nightmare, excitement making his hands shake as he fumbled with the pages of the book.

“This is the real world.” He muttered to himself. “There’s no such thing as curses or magic spells.” Then, he wrenched the book open to a random page.

Nothing happened, like he had anticipated, but this book was written in a Latin variant as well and he inwardly groaned. He had half the mind to start taking Latin as an elective in University, what with how many of the books his mother had collected were written in it, but he didn’t have the time nor the energy.

“Night! Dinner!” His brother called from somewhere upstairs.

“Coming!” Nightmare said, closing the book and placing it back down on the pile. As he headed up the stairs, he wondered if he had really seen his name in a passage or if it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

~

Nightmare shuddered as he gagged for what must have been the twentieth time that minute, head resting on the edge of the toilet seat. He felt _awful_ , unsurprisingly given his current position, but this whole cold-sweats and vomiting thing was getting old _reeeally_ quick.

“Nightmare I swear to god _go to the doctor_!” Dream pleaded from the bathroom doorway. “You’ve been sick for weeks and you’re really starting to scare me.”

Nightmare spat, lifting his head. “I’m _fine_ , okay? No fever, just can’t…” He gagged again, head falling back down, “stomach anything.” He might have been lying about the fever, but it wasn’t a _bad_ one. He’d had bad ones before.

“ _I don’t care_.” Dream said, snapping a little. “And I don’t care if I have to haul your ass to my car and drive you myself! This isn’t _good_ , Nightmare!”

“Dream, if I promise you that if I get a fever I will go to the _hospital_ for god’s sake, will you _leave me alone_?” Nightmare begged, another wave of nausea building in his stomach. Dream let out a loud grunt of annoyance before Nightmare heard him stomp away. He took a moment to appreciate the silence, until he emptied his stomach again.

~

He woke up again late that night, but not to the feeling of wanting to puke his insides out. His back felt tense all over. Up and between his shoulder blades, sharp bursts of pressure shot up and down his spine, eventually settling into the middle of his back, fading away to nothing. It hurt, but more in an annoying sort of way. Peeling himself out of his bed with only a mild wincing, Nightmare left his room and wandered over to the bathroom. Once he was done squinting at the brightness of the light, he realised just how _awful_ he looked. His already pale skin was at least one shade lighter, cheeks flushed just enough that he looked like a living person and not a corpse, with deep bags under his eyes. No wonder Dream had been so concerned. He raised a hand to smooth down his hair when the very action caused a sharp stinging pain to ripple down his back. Nightmare swallowed the cry of pain that threatened to rip from his throat and dropped his hand back down. He dug his palms into the edge of the counter-top, trying to breathe through the pain. He had no idea what he had done to his back, but it felt like something was trying to _rip its way out_.

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

His muddled brain registered another noise around his laboured breathing. It was reminiscent of the sound of water droplets hitting a flat surface, but Nightmare knew no water was on. He turned to look at the shower behind him, the movement only jarring his back further. The dripping noise increased in consistency, and Nightmare’s glance drifted downward…

Blood.

Lots and _lots_ of blood.

It fell from behind him, off of something unknown, and he felt his heart stop. Trying to breathe, he attempted to turn his back to the mirror to see _what was going on_ , but the twisting only made whatever it was rip his back painfully. Blood was falling in large blobs now, mixed with skin and other thing’s Nightmare didn’t want to think about. He didn’t want to panic, but god he was _scared_. He wanted to call for Dream, to have someone as sensible as his brother with him right now to tell him what was happening, but his voice was lodged in his throat. The panic in him only intensified when he felt _something_ worming its way from his back.

“Dre-“ He started, only to be cut off by a pain so sharp and intense that his bother’s name dissolved into a scream. Nightmare doubled over, falling to his hands and knees as that _something_ tore violently from his back. Blood slid down his arms in thin tracks, pooling on the tiled floor. He was vaguely aware of his brother’s surprised shout from the doorway, but it seemed distant and muffled. By the time Nightmare felt Dream’s hands grasping his arms and had looked up into wide panicked blue eyes, the pain had stopped and so had the wriggling of whatever it was that had torn from his back. He took a shaky breath and promptly passed out.

~

When he woke up, he wasn’t in his bed. Nor was he in the hospital, which was something that would have made much more sense. The room was painted a soft eggshell, and there was a chair in the corner where he saw his brother curled up, sleeping fitfully. Nightmare shifted, disturbed when something under him did as well, and pressed himself into a sitting position.

“…Dream?” He rasped. His twin, ever the light sleeper, jerked awake. When his eyes landed on Nightmare, Dream practically launched from the chair and wrapped him tightly in his arms.

“Oh, thank _god_!” Dream choked. Nightmare didn’t need to see his brother’s face to know Dream was crying. “You scared me to death you asshole! I couldn’t get you to wake up and-and I couldn’t stop the bleeding and I thought you were…you were…”

‘Going to die.’ Nightmare’s brain filled in for him. “What happened?” He barely whispered. Dream pulled back, fixing him with a look of complete helpless confusion.

“You were cursed, kid.” A voice said from the doorway of the room.

Nightmare looked up to see an older woman with brown hair that was pulled away from her face in complex braids. He didn’t recognise her, and in a moment of distrust, he pulled Dream a little closer. Whatever had been slumping against the mattress behind him leapt into unconscious action, and Nightmare got his first real look at what had torn from his back as they curled protectively around his brother.

There were four of them, tentacle-like, midnight black and oozing, as if they were made of some viscous liquid. Nightmare froze when he saw them, not entirely sure what he was looking at. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and poked one. It reacted, curling slightly, and Nightmare felt the touch jolt up his spine like a live wire. He yelped and jumped back a little, watching them curl defensively in the air around him, writhing like snakes. He couldn’t speak, watching in slight horror and fascination.

“That’s a really nasty one you’ve got there.” The lady spoke again, drawing Nightmare’s attention. “Not even your mama would have known how to deal with that one.” At the twin looks of confusion she received in return, the woman sighed. “She really didn’t tell you nothing, did she?”

“Tell us what?” Dream asked.

“You knew our mom?” Nightmare said. Dream turned to him, nodding his head.

“She was one of the emergency contacts in the phone book mom left for us before she left.” Dream admitted. “I didn’t know what else to do, I couldn’t take you to the hospital like that.”

“Good thing you didn’t.” The lady said, stepping into the room and revealing two steaming mugs in her hands. “They either would have amputated those things or dissected you like some lab animal.” She passed over the mugs to them, Nightmare eyeing his suspiciously before taking it. The warmth from the mug spread throughout his hands and up his arms. It made the rest of his body feel cold, and he had the sudden urge to grab the covers him and Dream were sitting on and wrap himself up in it like a cocoon. Instead, he stared into his mug, trying to tell if it was anything else besides piping hot chamomile tea. Just as Nightmare was about to take a tentative sip, he felt eyes on him, Dream’s, to be more precise.

“What?” Nightmare asked, meeting his brother’s gaze. Dream tore his eyes away, a little guilty at being caught staring.

“Sorry…I’ll get used to them; I promise.” Dream said, taking a quick sip of the tea and immediately wincing as it burnt his tongue.

“You won’t be _getting used_ to anything.” Nightmare said. “I can get rid of these…” He thought to himself for a moment and turned to the woman. “…Right?”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, hon.” She said, giving him a look that bordered pity. “You opened that weird book, right? The one with no title, framed in gold?”

“What does that have to do with any of this?” Nightmare asked.

“Like I said,” she began, “you’ve been cursed. There were very few me and your mama were unable to cure in our lives, the one you’ve been granted with being one of them.”

Dream almost spat out his drink, the woman's words finally catching up to him. “You and mom did _what?!_ ”

“So, there’s nothing I can do about this?!” Nightmare spat, suddenly angry. “I’m supposed to just deal with it?!”

The woman sighed at Nightmare’s tone. “Yes, Dream, hence the reason your mama was always travelling. I was with her when she gave birth to the two of you, oh, how unexpected that was…” She trailed off, lost in her memories for a moment, before she brought herself back. “And Nightmare, I don’t expect you to ‘just deal with it’.”

“Then what _am_ I supposed to do?!” Nightmare said, voice tight as he stopped himself from shouting. “I go to _school_ , I _work_ , I have a _life_ , I can’t just hide away forever!”

“Would you like to hear a potential solution or are you going to keep snapping at me?” The woman asked, keeping her voice level and clear. Nightmare was _fuming_ , and Dream, seeing an argument on its way, grabbed Nightmare’s hand tightly.

“Why don’t we listen to her, Night? She might actually have a solution to all this.” Dream said carefully, knowing full well that his brother was more likely to go off about tiny things when he was stressed. Nightmare looked at him and took a deep breath. Dream noticed, with slight fascination, how the dripping tendrils sprouting from his brother’s back curled with the inhale and relaxed with the exhale.

“Okay.” Nightmare said. “I’ll listen.”

“Thank you.” The lady said, taking a seat where Dream had previously been sleeping. “The reason I can’t do anything about that curse is because it is different for every person. Meaning that those new tentacles of yours were tailored specifically for _you_ , or at least for a person like you.”

“What does that mean?” Nightmare asked.

“Tell me, Nightmare,” the woman began, “do you lash out at people often? Do you keep a lot of things to yourself until you break from the pressure of holding it all inside?”

“Yes.” Dream muttered into his cup before Nightmare had the chance to respond.

“Hey!” Nightmare complained.

“Well?” The woman pressed. “Do you?”

Nightmare shrunk under her gaze, avoiding her eyes. “…Maybe.”

“That’s why those are your curse.” She said, gesturing to the tendrils curling above his head. “They were created violently, and they have the potential for great acts of violence, a physical manifestation of all the anger and frustration you’ve been harbouring for a large portion of your life. Of all the things you wanted to do but never were able to, of all the vengeful hurt you wanted to cause.”

Nightmare watched her in quiet contemplation as she continued. “As such, they are tied very deeply with your emotions and will likely react accordingly, if what I have seen in the short time of being in a room with you has anything to say about that.” She sounded a little teasing at the end and Nightmare raised an eyebrow. Dream snickered.

“What are you talking about?” Nightmare asked, turning to Dream who only looked at him before laughing harder. Even the woman was chuckling now. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Dream tried to explain through his giggles, “they really _do_ react to how you’re feeling, Night.”

“The hell does that even mean?!” Nightmare said, trying to catch a glimpse of them over his shoulder.

“Like...like when you were mad earlier, they were all ridged but now they’re...curling and stuff.” Dream said.

“ _Anyway._ ” Nightmare said, changing the subject. “I’m going to have this forever?”

“Not necessarily.” The lady spoke, rising from her seat. “They could fade away all on their own should you enter a stable place of mind. It’s not an easy thing to do, but it’s not impossible either.”

Nightmare groaned. She just _had_ to say that in front of his brother. When he turned to face him, Dream was already looking at him, a ‘no nonsense’ look in the other’s eyes.

“Dream, I am _not_ going to therapy again.” Nightmare stated, placing his mug down on a nearby table.

“And why the hell not?” Dream said. “It helped last time.”

“ _Last time_ ,” Nightmare said, breaking off into a whisper, “I didn’t have god damn tentacles growing from my back.”

“No, but I think it was _a little worse last time._ ” Dream whispered back, glaring at him.

“I’m _fine_ , Dream.”

“You have a physical fucking representation of how _not fine_ you are growing out of your back Nightmare!” Dream said. “I’m not putting up with your bullshit anymore!”

“Stop treating me like a child that you can just boss around!” Nightmare snapped.

“Then _stop acting like one_!” Dream yelled, pushing himself to his feet. “Admit that you have a problem and you need help and fucking deal with it like a god damn _a_ _dult_!” He went to walk away, and Nightmare felt a burst of anger at his brother. Dream didn’t know _shit_ about what he was going through!

In that moment of uncontrolled anger, the tendrils at his back shot out and shoved his twin harshly across the room. Dream landed on the floor with a thud, mug in his grasp shattering on the ground. As soon as Nightmare processed what had happened, he scuttled back to the headboard of the bed, knees pressed to his chest and tendrils curling tightly against him. Dream stood, turning to tell his brother _just how much of an immature piece of shit he was being_ , when something in Nightmare’s curled form made him pause. It had been a while since he’d seen Nightmare look scared, but not of anyone else. Rather, scared of _himself_.

“It is not a good idea to egg each other on right now.” The woman said, placing a hand on Dream’s shoulder. “You can talk about this with your brother once he’s adjusted. I doubt he really wants to hurt you, but he might accidentally.”

Dream shrugged her off, feeling more than a little annoyed but not wanting to make the situation worse. “Fine.” He mumbled and left the room. The woman watched him go, a sigh leaving her lips, before she turned to the eldest twin.

“You’re just like your mama; stubborn to a fault. Both of you.” She said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She turned her pitiful gaze onto him, and Nightmare held his knees tighter.

He hadn’t wanted to shove Dream, not really, not that hard anyway. He knew he was being difficult, but this entire day had been difficult. The last thing he wanted to end it with was him arguing with Dream. Nightmare wished his brother had stayed, at least long enough for him to mutter out an apology. He could really use his twin’s never-ending positivity right now.

“You have nothing to be afraid of, Nightmare.” She soothed. “Least of all yourself. The easiest way to control those, is to control how you react.”

“How?” Nightmare choked, surprising himself with just how bad he suddenly felt. Like he wanted to curl up and cry for the next few days. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time.

“Only you can figure that out for yourself. I’m sorry, I’d be more help if I could, hon.”

She left the room and Nightmare was plunged into silence. He let his body uncurl as he fell back onto the mattress. The texture of the blanket felt strange against the inky tendrils on his back, and it only made him feel worse about his whole situation. A sudden wave of exhaustion overtook him, and he fell into a quick restless slumber.

~

When Nightmare awoke again, the room was dark, the only light coming from a small table lamp to his left. He blearily registered someone sitting against the headboard next to where he lay, but he only recognised who it was when he raised his head and met familiar blue eyes.

Dream met his gaze evenly, book in his grasp momentarily forgotten. Nightmare felt his chest tighten, all the feelings that had been present before he fell asleep coming back full force. He curled in on himself again, the blankets scratching at his clothes as he moved, and swallowed the lump growing in his throat.

“’M sorry…” Nightmare mumbled, watching Dream’s eyes soften until they were warm ocean pools. His bother let out a quiet sigh and placed the book he had been reading on the table beside the bed, then, Dream slid down till he was lying next to Nightmare and reached out to hold his hand. Nightmare felt his entire body crack under the gentle touch.

Dream shook his head, the movement so small it was barely noticeable. “Not now, brother. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.” He snaked out his other arm to pull Nightmare’s head against his shoulder, running a hand through short black strands of hair. “Just…rest. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

For the second time in his life, Nightmare broke in his brother’s grasp. Silently, face pressing into the cloth of Dream’s shirt, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, he let his tears fall.


	2. Just Work With It For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little snippets taken throughout the first few months of Nightmare adjusting to his extra limbs.  
> Who knows, maybe they can actually be useful?

Honestly, the solution to concealing those pesky extra limbs of his was surprisingly easy. Nightmare owned a surplus of dark hoodies anyway; it was just a matter of getting ones in a slightly larger size. His tendrils were surprisingly flexible, he had realised, and could curl decently flat against his back. They had a tendency to make him look more muscular when they did though, not that he was complaining, but if he tried to just wear them under a t-shirt he looked a bit like an Olympic swimmer. Not to mention they moved around a lot, so just wearing a shirt over them was a no go. For now, he settled on large dark sweaters. They were comfortable anyway, and he could wear them for work since he didn’t have a uniform.

Eventually, by the time Friday had finally rolled around and he had waltzed back into his and Dream’s house at quarter to ten at night, he was practically clawing his sweater off before he even made it to the living room. When it came loose over his head, he flung it onto the back of the couch, tentacles promptly unfurling. Nightmare groaned as his back muscles protested, spine popping as the tendrils stretched until they brushed the ceiling. Then, they fell to the ground with gentle thumps and Nightmare collapsed face first onto the couch. He was too tired and sore to move, his tentacles barely twitching from where they were spread around him. He could have fallen asleep out there, face down in the couch cushions.

“I thought I heard you get home.” His brother’s voice called to him. “How was school? And work, I guess.”

Nightmare groaned, not really in the mood for a conversation, and he felt Dream move one of his tendrils out of the way to sit by his hip.

“That good, huh?” Dream said. “I can’t imagine cat’s being that much work, Night.”

“’S not the cats…” Nightmare mumbled into the couch. “My back is killing me. I hate these damn things…” Dream hummed, sympathy lacing his tone, and placed his hand gently on his brother’s back between the inky protrusions.

“Your muscles will get used to it eventually.” Dream said, beginning to rub Nightmare’s back in slow circles, afraid of upsetting the stitching he could still feel through the fabric of his brother’s shirt. “…There’s something I want to tell you.”

Nightmare shifted his head so he could watch Dream from the corner of his eyes. “What is it?” He mumbled. Dream smiled and looked away from him, becoming suddenly bashful.

“There’s…uhm…this guy I kind of like…” Dream began, twirling a slightly longer strand of his golden hair between his fingers. Nightmare, becoming suddenly alert, pushed himself up from his reclined position and crossed his legs under him.

“Okay…?” Nightmare said, encouraging his brother to keep talking.

“He’s…uh…he’s in my business math course…and…uhm…” Dream was blushing now, shifting where he sat, and Nightmare felt a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah~?” Nightmare teased, one of his tendrils unintentionally poking Dream’s cheek.

Dream swatted at it, pouting at his brother before he continued. “He invited me to dinner on Sunday…and I _know_ that’s when we usually have dinner together, so I just thought I’d talk to you about it.” He said. Nightmare blinked, letting out a sigh. His twin could never just think of himself could he?

“Dream, it’s fine.” Nightmare said, leaning back against the couch. “You don’t have to ask me if it’s okay if you’re not home for dinner to go on a date. I’m not mom.”

“I know, I know.” Dream said. “I just didn’t want you to be upset.”

“…That’s kind of a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Dream glared at him and smacked him on the arm. “Well s _orry_ if I’m thinking about your feelings, okay? One of us has to.”

Nightmare rolled his eyes. “Yes, but you’re _always_ thinking about my feelings. You’re allowed to think about your own too, y’know.”

“Yeah…” Dream sighed. They were quiet for a moment, before Nightmare felt the urge to pry more into his brother’s love life.

“So~…” Nightmare sang, leaning forward till he was resting his chin on Dream’s shoulder and smirking mischievously at him. “You gonna tell me more about him or…?”

Dream flushed. “Since when do you care about my love life?”

“Since always.” Nightmare said. “I just have a reputation to keep up.” Dream snorted, eyeing him for a moment before delving into a rather lengthy story of how he had met his crush and how he, Cross, had ended up asking Dream out for dinner. Nightmare listened until his eyelids grew heavy and he couldn’t anymore.

~

When Nightmare opened his eyes, he was half buried against his sleeping brother’s side. Trying to detangle himself without waking the other, Nightmare pressed himself onto his knees and was promptly almost slammed down again. Somehow, in the process of them sleeping, Dream had wound up on top of two out of four of Nightmare’s tentacles, affectively keeping him in place. Nightmare sighed and gently poked Dream’s cheek, rousing the other from his slumber.

“Huh?” Dream sleepily asked.

“Sit up.” Nightmare said. “You’re pinning me.” Dream, still half asleep, didn’t question him and sat up, Nightmare moving back as well until they were sitting across from each other. The pinned tendrils came loose and began curling in the air above them, trying to shake off waves of pins-and-needles. Dream let out a deep yawn, slouching forward to rest his head on Nightmare’s shoulder.

“What time is it?” Dream asked. Nightmare rubbed at his eyes and squinted blearily at the clock. He had forgotten to take his contacts out last night and his eyes were burning painfully.

“Close to noon I’d guess.” Nightmare said, poking at Dream until the other stopped leaning on him. Nightmare clambered to his feet and stretched, shoulders popping. “I gotta get these out of my eyes. If you’re still tired then go to bed.” As he made his way to the washroom, he heard Dream groan.

“But I’m comfy here…” Dream whined.

“Then stay there.” Nightmare said, working his contacts out of his eyes. “Just don’t complain that I’m being too loud.” Dream groaned from the living room, and a few moments later Nightmare heard the clanging of pans from the kitchen. Leaving his contacts to soak for the rest of the day, he wandered over to the kitchen to help Dream with breakfast.

~

Nightmare wasn’t sure how to feel about Cross.

The kid seemed harmless enough, and quite genuine, but something in Nightmare just didn’t like him. He had half the mind to shed his sweater in front of the other and watch him run for the hills, but he knew Dream would be mad at him for it.

Besides, his brother and this guy had actually been going steady for the last month and a half. Dream seemed happy and a little less stressed than he usually was, which was good, but Nightmare was grumpy. And, as he had come to figure out, his tentacles tended to do things when he was grumpy.

“Hey, Night?” Dream called to him. “Have you seen my mug? I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

Nightmare sighed. He knew his brother would ask eventually, but he _really_ didn’t want to explain. It was…embarrassing. He’d just wanted to get his own mug; he didn’t ask his tendrils to grab is brother’s and promptly smash it to smithereens.

“Uh…” Nightmare began, not quite sure he wanted to tell Dream. “It um…broke.”

“What?” Dream said, peering into the living room at him.

“Yeah. Sorry, should have told you.”

“How did it break?” Dream asked, leaning against a wall and crossing in his arms, sending Nightmare a look that meant he _clearly_ knew who had broken it.

“It wasn’t my fault okay!” Nightmare defended, feeling his tentacles curl against his back. “These things have a mind of their own, I didn’t w _ant_ to break your mug!”

Dream blinked at him curiously. “Are you mad at me for something?”

Nightmare thought about it. He had been feeling off for the past month or so, but he couldn’t really pin anything to do with his mood on his brother. “Nothing that I can think of. The only thing I’m _still_ bitter about is the fact that you’re taller than me.”

Dream let out a laugh that turned from teasing to maniacal. “Kneel before my superior genes brother.”

Nightmare rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “I like how _now_ you realise you have superior genes. Not when I have albinism or anything else, but the second you’re half an inch taller.” Dream laughed from the kitchen, mug incident forgotten, and Nightmare felt his smile widen. He wasn’t sure why he was so worried about his brother getting mad, Dream could never stay angry with him for long anyway.

“By the way,” Dream started, walking into the living room with a different mug, “Cross is coming by today. I thought we could all play some board games and stuff together.”

Nightmare tensed. “You…want me to stick around?”

“Well, its not like he can meet my parents.” Dream said, staring into his swirling cup of coffee. “And I know you’ve _technically_ met him, but you guys haven’t sat down and actually talked so…”

“Why is it such a huge deal?” Nightmare said as an uncomfortable feeling spread through him.

“ _Because_ I want _you_ to like him!” Dream said, voice raising a little bit. “You’re both so important to me, I couldn’t stand it if you hated each other or never wanted to meet.”

Nightmare watched his brother’s outburst silently before reaching out and gently taking the mug from Dream’s hands. He set it on the coffee table and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry.” Nightmare muttered. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Dream stared at him; a bit shocked.

“…Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Nightmare sighed, laughing slightly. “I’m trying to work on the whole ‘emotions’ thing. I don’t want to accidentally stab someone, regardless of how shitty I’ve been feeling lately.”

Dream reached out and squeezed his hand lightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I…there’s nothing really _to_ talk about.” Nightmare said. “I don’t have a reason _why_ I’ve been feeling shitty, I just do.”

“Well…okay then.” Dream said, releasing Nightmare’s hand. “Just let me know if you need to talk, okay?”

Nightmare felt something soft and warm settle in the pit of his stomach. Dream was an endless well of kindness. He smiled at him as he reached out a tentacle to grab the TV remote.

“I will, I promise.” Nightmare said. Dream watched his movements with a slight smile and a raised eyebrow.

“You’re getting pretty dexterous with those.” Dream said as Nightmare took the remote from one of his tendrils.

Nightmare shrugged. “I figured I might as well. It’s not like they’re going to go away anytime soon.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence while Nightmare flipped channels.

“So,” Nightmare began, “when’s Cross coming over then?”

~

“Nightmare, are you awake?”

The voice was quiet, but loud enough in the silence of the night to rouse Nightmare from his half-conscious state. He startled slightly, tendrils twitching under his blankets and pushed his face up from his pillow, wiping drool from his chin.

“Am now.” Nightmare muttered, shaking off sleep. “What is it?”

Dream slid inside his room, closing the door behind him. “Can I…stay here tonight?” Nightmare sat up fully, shaking the blankets from his shoulders and rubbing his eyes.

“Bad dream?” Nightmare said, not waiting for his brother to respond as he moved to free up the other half of his bed.

“Isn’t it always?” Dream said. Nightmare wasn’t entirely surprised by Dream’s late-night visit. His twin had suffered from, well, nightmares, ever since they were little. It had become a habit for Nightmare, who had developed a bit of habitual insomnia from late nights spent reading, to not ask any questions when his younger brother snuck into his room in the late hours of the night and curled up next to him. Some things never change.

Dream slid into the bed next to him, pulling the covers up to his nose and burying his head into the pillow. Nightmare flipped so he was lying more on his stomach, something he had gotten into the habit of doing since the whole ‘tentacles’ thing, and turned his head to look at Dream.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Nightmare asked. Dream offered him a small smile and shook his head.

“It’s okay, I don’t really remember it anymore.” Dream said. “I just…didn’t want to be alone.”

Nightmare nodded back, eyelids drooping as sleep begun to pull him back into its grasp. “Alright. Goodnight Dream.”

“G’night, Night.”

~

Dream woke up feeling too warm, like he had been immerged in a hot bath all night. Something akin to a weighted blanket was resting across him, but weighted blankets didn’t shift and curl. When he became more aware of where he was and how uncomfortably hot he was becoming, he moved and tried to shake Nightmare’s tendrils off of him. They only curled tighter against him and Dream felt the gentle but solid pressure of something being pressed between his shoulder blades.

“No…” He heard Nightmare mumble against his back.

“Night, it’s too hot.” Dream complained, shifting more violently. Nightmare’s tendrils only wrapped tighter around him.

“No, I’m comfy.” Nightmare said. “You owe me anyway. How many times was I _your_ teddy-bear growing up?”

“For god’s sake, Nightmare!” Dream grumbled. “It’s fucking _hot_ , let me go!” Dream struggled for a few moments before he gave up. Nightmare’s tentacles were a lot stronger than he initially believed, and Nightmare seemed very smug about it. Dream glared at him, and idea sparking in his mind.

“Hey, Nightmare?” Dream said, turning around in Nightmare’s grasp till he was facing the other.

Nightmare raised an eyebrow at him. “Hm?”

Dream smirked. “How many tickles does it take to tickle an octopus?”

Nightmare blinked at Dream, still shaking off sleep as his brain tried to process his brother’s joke. “I don’t know.” Nightmare said. “What does that have to do wi-“

“Ten-tickles!” Dream said, hands darting to Nightmare’s sides and wiggling against his ribs. Nightmare let out an undignified squeak and curled in on himself, tentacles snapping away from Dream to writhe behind his back as he fought against peels of laughter. Dream, fighting against Nightmare’s kicking legs and defensive arms, grinned and continued to tickle him mercilessly.

“Dream!” Nightmare wheezed. “I give! I give! Just s-sto-o-op!”

“No.” Dream laughed. “I said it takes ten tickles. You haven’t had ten yet!”

“I’m not-“ Nightmare tried to speak through loud bouts of laughter, “I’m not an oc-octopus you ahahahasshole!”

Dream giggled and decided to give his brother a moment to breathe. Nightmare folded more inward on himself, tendrils curling around his shoulders protectively as he tried to even out his breathing.

Dream, finally freed from his prison of heat, sat up and shimmied out of the bed. The cold floor on his feet felt like a refreshing jolt up his spine when compared to the warmth of Nightmare’s bed.

“Jerk.” Nightmare said.

Dream stuck out his tongue at him and left the room, calling over his shoulder as he went.

“I call dibs on washroom!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A legit sat myself down and made an emotion chart and how it corresponds to what Nootmare's tentacles do.  
> I lowkey feel like that's something Dream would mentally keep a tab of too tho ngl  
> Especially since now he can FINALLY tell what his brother is really feeling.  
> Lemme know if you guys wanna see how board games with Cross went XD  
> Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed! Comments and Kudos are wonderful and appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> -Maggic


	3. What is Love? (Baby Don't Hurt Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross doesn't know how to ask where Dream puts his shit, Killer is a dork, Nightmare can't romance and unofficially becomes a mother to three grown-ass adults, and stuff gets found out.

The longer Nightmare spent living with the guys, the more he understood why Cross had practically _begged_ him to room with the three of them. He wasn’t necessarily complaining. It was nice, incredibly nice, for Cross to help out. When his brother’s boyfriend had heard that he was looking for an apartment, but couldn’t really afford one to live in on his own, Cross had jumped on the opportunity and introduced him to three of his high school friends who were living across town in a four bedroom apartment. They had needed a fourth roommate, not only because of rent but because…well…

Because, between Horror, Dust, and Killer, their brain power collaborated to form exactly half of a functional adult. And that was Nightmare being generous. Honestly, he had no idea how someone could sign a lease and pay bills for an apartment but _didn’t_ know how to cook a decent meal or operate a washing machine.

Normally, Nightmare would take his weekends for time to himself or to finish some schoolwork.

Not anymore.

Now he was playing mom for a bunch of overgrown children.

“Alright, whoever doesn’t want their shit thrown out had better come pick it up.” Nightmare yelled out into the silence of the apartment as he continued to tidy up the living room. Articles of clothing and empty wrappers and boxes lay scattered about, and had been scattered about for over a week now, before Nightmare had decided enough was enough. Thankfully, even though his housemates were slobs, they listened. Slowly, one by one, they made their appearance and gathered the things that they had previously been too lazy to pick up with only mild complaining. Dust chuckled as he grabbed his things.

“Yes _mom_.” Dust said, balancing his pile as he made his way back to his room.

“Don’t start this shit.” Nightmare threatened. “Remember that I know where you sleep.” Dust laughed at that before he disappeared into his room again. Horror said nothing as he grabbed the few things that were his and went back to his room as well. Killer, on the other hand…

“Y’know, you don’t have to do this.” Killer said.

“You’re right.” Nightmare said. “I don’t _have_ to do this, and I wouldn’t have to if everyone just cleaned up their shit.”

Killer laughed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well,” Nightmare began, bending over to pick up a pizza box that was, at least, three weeks old, “I like my living space clean even if you three don’t.”

“That’s fine.” Killer said as he picked off a few stray pieces of lint from his shirt. “I’m just saying, if it bothers you that much we could all try and put in a bit more effort.”

Nightmare stopped what he was doing and stared incredulously at Killer. The light-haired man had never been mean to him since he moved in, teasing maybe, but this was too nice. Even for Killer.

“What?” Killer asked, turning a little red. Nightmare didn’t say anything, raising a hand to place the back of it on Killer’s forehead. Killer’s face brightened at the touch.

“Are you feeling okay?” Nightmare said after a moment. “You’re not getting sick or anything?”

Killer scoffed, pushing away Nightmare’s hand. “And you wonder why Dust calls you mom!”

“I don’t wonder.” Nightmare said, going back to picking up the scattered junk. “I just don’t like it.”

“My _point_ is,” Killer continued, “you do a lot around here. And I mean a _lot._ I can’t help but feel like we’re not pulling our own weight anymore. Or, that _I’m_ not pulling my own weight.” Nightmare wandered over to the kitchen to throw away the empty snack wrappers he had amassed, still pondering Killer’s words. After a moment of silent contemplation, Nightmare spoke again.

“If you really want to make an effort to help out, I won’t stop you.” He said, washing his hands in the sink. “And I’d…appreciate it.” Killer perked up a bit at Nightmare’s words, wandering over into the kitchen and leaning against one of the counters, hands in his pockets. He smiled at Nightmare as the other turned around to face him, and Nightmare’s chest clenched oddly in response, tendrils under his hoodie curling in tighter.

“You got it then, boss.” Killer said. “I’ll help you with whatever you want me to.”

~

Let it be known that Cross did _not_ condone snooping through your partner's things, it’s just that he had left his phone charger at Dream’s house when he had last come over to play board games, good lord was that an experience, and he had no idea where his boyfriend had put it.

So, really, he wasn’t rummaging around in Dream’s room for an unsavoury reason, his phone was just at 1%.

Cross tried to recall where _he_ had put it when he had come over, but his memories were blurry. The only one’s that actively stuck out to him were of how fucking _competitive_ a single game of monopoly between the two brothers had become. And how, even though Dream was his boyfriend and he loved him, Dream _was_ cheating, and Nightmare _did_ have a point. So, he had teamed up with the eldest twin and had won the game as a result. Dream confessed, later when they were cuddling in bed and discussing the events of the day, that he had honestly done most of his antagonising on purpose to get the two of them to work together. It was…sweet? Cross guessed, and Nightmare wasn’t so bad to be around when they were on the same team.

Cross opened the drawer of Dream’s nightstand, still not finding the cord that he was searching for. Instead, however, a small notebook with a bookmarked page caught his attention.

_I shouldn’t…_ Cross thought. What if there was something in there that Dream was hiding specifically from him? Like a list of date plans or gifts or something? Still, Cross’s curiosity was piqued, and he couldn’t seem to shake it. He glanced quickly over his shoulder, even though it was pointless. Both Dream and Nightmare were out buying groceries and probably wouldn’t be back for the next half hour or so. _Fuck it_. He opened the notebook to the bookmarked page and skimmed over the loopy cursive that was Dream’s handwriting, growing more and more confused the more he read it over.

_Curled tightly/close to body = embarrassed (hehehe), ashamed?_

_Spread out, wide loops and curls = happy, content_

_Spread out, tight loops and curls = excited, maybe nervous?_

_Hanging down, half curls = sad or tired, or both now that I think about it_

_Spread out, ridged = scared_

_Spread out, ridged, curling around body = angry, defensive_

_Close to body, large curls and loops = flustered or in love???? Still not sure_

_Spread out, half curls and loops = playful, mischievous_

No matter how Cross read the note, it didn’t make sense. He wondered if Dream was analysing someone’s handwriting or his own, with how much he addressed curls and loops, but the whole ‘body’ part was lost on him. Shrugging, Cross slid the bookmark back into place and put the notebook back where it belonged.

He’d ask Dream about his charger when he got back.

~

Nightmare, upon waking up to his alarm early one spring morning, decided that he _did not_ want to go to University and sit through his 8 am Law lecture. However, he was paying a ridiculous sum of money per year to go to school and get his degree, so, after waging some mental war, he peeled himself from his bed. Normally, he'd throw on some sort of hoodie or robe in the morning to cover up his tentacles, but summer was nearing and the air conditioning in the apartment was still broken. So, he wandered out of his room in just his night-clothes, tentacles dragging limply on the floor behind him as he fought off sleep. Coffee, coffee would help.

While the coffee was brewing, Nightmare leaned back against the opposite counter and rubbed at his eyes, one of his more dexterous tentacles winding upwards and opening a cabinet to grab him a mug. It was placed under the coffee machine a few seconds before the dark liquid was dispensed in it and Nightmare let the sweet smell of caffeine wash over him. Still half asleep as one of his tendrils passed him his now filled mug, Nightmare had no reaction to Dust wandering into the kitchen and grabbing his own mug. Nightmare stood their, absentmindedly sipping at his coffee as Dust placed his under the machine and begun making himself a cup. Dust leaned against the counter beside the coffee machine and gave Nightmare a non-committed nod.

"Morning..." Dust mumbled as he rubbed at his face.

"Morning." Nightmare replied, watching Dust grab his now filled coffee mug and begin drinking as well.

For a few minutes, the two of them just stared at each other as they drank, trying to wake up, before something moving behind Nightmare caught Dust's attention. Barely a second afterwards, Dust had spewed his coffee out of his mouth and across the kitchen, spraying Nightmare with the scalding liquid.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Dust screamed, and continued to scream. Nightmare joined him, placing down his mug and trying to clean himself of the hot coffee, tentacles writhing and curling behind him in pain. For a few moments, the only sound in the apartment was the two of them yelling, until Horror and Killer came scrambling out of their rooms, saw what Dust was screaming about, and joined in.

Nightmare, coffee soaked shirt now on the floor as he wiped down his skin with a cold dishcloth, stopped screaming and centred himself. "What the _fuck_ is everyone screaming about?!"

"What in the hell is that behind you?!" Killer asked, cowering behind Horror slightly.

"What are you talking ab-" Nightmare looked over his shoulder and the inky blackness of his tentacles glistened back at him. He felt his heart stop. "Oh...shit..."

"Nightmare..." Horror said, his voice wavering but surprisingly calm. "What the hell are those things?"

Nightmare sighed and bent down to retrieve his coffee-soaked shirt from the tile floor, unintentionally giving his roommates a clear view of where the darkness of his tentacles met the paleness of his skin. An uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

"I'll explain, I promise." Nightmare said as he wrung out his shirt in the sink. "But it's bat-shit level crazy, so I won't be upset if you don't believe me."

"To be fair, Nightmare," Killer spoke, soft and breathy, "I think seeing your back was all the scientific proof we really needed."

"Are those things...coming out of you?" Dust said, now sounding more curious than alarmed. Nightmare sighed again.

"Let me get a new shirt on. Then I'll explain everything."

~

His roommates took it...surprisingly well. They were all more curious than anything. He'd thought the questions would never stop, and to be fair they only did when Nightmare had glanced up at the time, sworn under his breath, and bolted out of the apartment. Barely having time to grab his bag on the way out.

He'd been prepared for the questions, he'd been expecting them. What he _hadn't_ been expecting was the nicknames and the teasing that came with him being able to wave his tendrils around freely in the apartment.

"Welcome back octo-dad!" Dust had said one day when he got back from school. Nightmare turned around and left, deciding there was only so much bullshit he could take in a day, and texted Dream. Asking if the other wanted to meet up somewhere for dinner.

It didn't let up though, and that nickname, unfortunately, became a recurring thing.

If anything, it got worse.

"Guys I'm ordering Japanese." Horror called from where he was sprawled on their living room couch. "Do any of you want anything?"

Nightmare shifted his focus from the dishes he was cleaning to the question. "Takoyaki."

Horror was quiet for a moment, then he spoke. "...Isn't that cannibalism?"

Nightmare dropped the pan he had been cleaning with a loud clang.

And then there was the time with Killer...

They were lounging around the house, like they usually did on Monday afternoons when Dust was at school and Horror was at work, with some TV show on as background noise as they tapped away on their phones. The peacefulness of it all was interrupted when Killer spoke up.

"You know," He began, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning his shit-eating grin on Nightmare, "if this whole Law thing fails you, porn studios would hire you for a pretty penny."

One of Nightmare's tendrils shot out and slapped Killer clean across the face. Deciding he didn't want to be in the same room as Killer anymore, Nightmare stood, face hot, and fled to his room, shutting the door loudly behind him.

Killer had apologised, eventually, and Nightmare had known he was only joking. He had acted more out of embarrassment anyway.

For a while, everything was normal.

~

Nightmare looked up from the absolute _mountain_ of assignments on his desk when there was a knock on his bedroom door. Sighing, a bit annoyed at being interrupted, he spun around on his seat to face the door behind him.

“Come in.” He called, folding his arms in his lap in a very cliché villainous type of way. He found himself longing for a small black cat to complete the picture. The door creaked open and Killer poked his head in, pale strands of hair slipping into his face. He stepped in, closing the door behind him and running a hand through his hair in an effort to tame it.

“Hey Night.” Killer said, leaning back casually on one foot. “Working hard I see?”

Nightmare rolled his eyes and spun his chair around to face his desk again, picking up his discarded pen. “What do you want Killer?”

Killer chuckled, but there was no real amusement in it. “Always so hostile.” He chided. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Nightmare glanced over his shoulder, dark bangs falling more heavily into his face as he tapped his pen irritably on his desk. “Is it important enough that you have to talk to me _now_?” He asked.

Killer frowned and Nightmare was well aware he was being an asshole, but he had too much unfinished work to get done in a very short amount of time. “Well…I wanted to…” Killer mumbled, shifting on his feet slightly. “But if you’re too busy to listen right now, I’ll come talk to you tomorrow.” He moved to walk back out of the room but was stopped abruptly by one of Nightmare’s tendrils wrapping loosely around his arm and a heavy echoing sigh. Nightmare spun around in his chair to face him again, resting his chin in the palm of his left hand.

“Alright, if it’s important to you.” Nightmare mumbled. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Uh…” Killer stumbled. “Well, I know you’re really busy all the time and…uh…that you don’t really have a lot of free time but…” He mumbled the rest of his sentence so quietly that Nightmare didn’t hear it.

“Killer, you’re going to have to speak up.” Nightmare said, really not having the time nor energy to deal with Killer’s theatrics. The person in question almost jumped at Nightmare’s voice, which was really not like Killer _at all_ and if Nightmare was any other person he might have been _concerned_ , before he stood his ground and stared intensely at Nightmare. His fists were clenched tightly, face slightly flushed, and all in all he looked about ready to flee the room at a second’s notice. Nightmare had to admit, he kind of liked the look of fear and intimidation on the other’s face.

“Go out with me.” Killer finally spat, body rigid, as if Nightmare would lose sight of him if he didn’t move. For a minute, Nightmare could only stare, not sure how he was supposed to respond and resisting the urge to gape like a fish. When Killer looked about ready to pass out from fear, Nightmare shook himself out of it.

“What?” Nightmare asked, sitting up straight in his chair.

Killer took a gulp of air, steeling himself again. “Go out with me.” He said again, sounding significantly less terrified.

Nightmare raised an eyebrow. “Why?” Nightmare said, still not sure he hadn’t been transported into a strange alternate dimension.

Killer seemed genuinely confused. “’Cause I like you?”

“Well, yeah, I figured that out…” Nightmare said. “I just…I’m processing.”

When Nightmare thought about it, really thought about it, Killer liking him like that made sense. All the teasing jabs, the smiles, the way he was always the first to do whatever Nightmare wanted them all to do. Like an overly-eager puppy. Nightmare didn't dislike the thought of Killer liking him, not like he had when a boy in his seventh grade class had confessed the same thing, but maybe that sort of thing came with age.

That or...

"You don't have to if you're not interested." Killer said, deflating slightly. 

"No!" Nightmare jumped in before correcting himself. "I mean yes! I mean...I just..." _Haven't been on a date before._

Killer raised an eyebrow, deep brown eyes widening. "You'd...go out with me?"

Nightmare shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant despite his fight-or-flight responses going off in his head. "Sure, it sounds...good." And it did. It sounded _great._

Killer smiled at him, brilliantly bright with relief and excitement. "Are you doing anything next Saturday?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Cool." Killer said. "You're with your brother that week, right?"

Nightmare did a mental count of what week of the month it was before he nodded.

"Great." Killer said, opening Nightmare's bedroom door again and slipping out. "I'll pick you up at six."

Nightmare silently watched him go for a moment, feeling rooted in the spot, before all of his nerves snapped to attention and he whirled around in his seat. He picked up his phone from his desk, assignments forgotten as he began furiously typing out messages to Dream.

There was no way he could write an essay on the verge of a panic attack.

~ 

Their first date had gone surprisingly well, as had all the dates afterwards. Killer was sweet, and Nightmare genuinely enjoyed his company. He could honestly say that what ever feelings he had been originally unsure about when it came to Killer had strengthened to a point where he was _sure as hell sure about them now._ Things weren't awkward at all, which was what Nightmare had been worried about, their relationship hadn't changed in the slightest. 

Except for little things. Like how Killer gently took his hand whenever they walked side by side, or how he woke up early to make Nightmare his coffee before he went to school. Even stranger, but no less pleasant, was when Killer would hesitantly place a soft kiss to Nightmare's cheek before they parted ways for the day. It made Nightmare feel incredibly warm and fuzzy-headed and he could privately say that he liked the feeling. It was nice to feel appreciated and loved by someone who wasn't his brother.

But then...

“C’mon, double dates are super cute!” Dream said.

Nightmare sighed, sprawled across their living room couch as he halfheartedly re-read Killer’s messages to him. There was no point to it, he practically had them memorised by now.

“I don’t know Dream…” Nightmare said, turning off his phone and placing it down away from him so he wouldn’t keep continuously reading.

“Why? Are you embarrassed to see me see you with your boyfriend~?” Dream teased as he loomed over him from behind the couch. Despite himself, Nightmare felt his cheeks heat up.

“No!” Nightmare said. “But…skating? Really?”

Dream shrugged. “We’re good at it, so what’s the problem?”

Nightmare didn’t want to respond. The _problem_ was it was _romantic_ , and very, very, public. He had seen enough romance movies to know the situations that ice-skating dates led to. He doubted Killer would be able to skate very well, the guy had bad balance just walking around their apartment, so he would probably have to hold Killer’s hands the entire time. The idiot would probably be all smiles the whole time too, staring at him with those gorgeous dark eyes of his…The thought was enough to have Nightmare pulling his knees to his chest, fighting his blush like it would go away the harder he frowned as his tentacles curled pathetically around him.

“Awww…” Dream cooed. “You really _are_ embarrassed.”

“I am _not_!” Nightmare cried, one of his tendrils lashing out to swat at Dream. His brother only laughed, blocking the attack with a raised arm.

“It’s not your first date or anything.” Dream said. “What’s got you so wound up?”

“Nothing…” Nightmare said. “Don’t people normally go out for dinner or something when they’re doing double dates?”

“Yeah but that’s so overdone.” Dream almost whined. “I thought we could do something a little different.”

Nightmare frowned harder, staring at his phone like his gaze would burn holes into it. Killer had seemed up for it, Dream was excited, and Nightmare knew Cross wouldn’t have any problems, but for some reason he just didn’t want to. He felt nauseous with embarrassment.

_I’ll fuck this up god I know I’ll fuck this up I’ll do something stupid and mess this up and it will be so embarrassing_ …

Dream, seemingly sensing his brother’s mental panic, placed a hand on Nightmare’s shoulder. “Hey.” Dream soothed. “Relax. It won’t be any different than your normal dates, you don’t have to freak out.”

“Except it’s _not_ like our normal dates.” Nightmare said. He wasn’t even sure if what he and Killer called ‘dates’ were actually considered dates. The most romantic date they had been on was the first one, and after they got the bill for their dinner they realised they would rather keep things simple. Casual and not much different than things had been when they had just been friends.

“What do you mean?” Dream said. “Even if me and Cross are there too, you guys don’t have to hang around us. I won’t be upset if you two ditch to go somewhere else.”

“That’s not the problem.” Nightmare groaned.

“To be honest, I don’t even see why there _is_ a problem. What’s wrong with going ice skating?”

“Because it’s romantic!” Nightmare said. “It’s really fucking romantic and _I don’t know how to be!_ ”

Dream watched, frowning as Nightmare curled further in on himself, and walked around the couch so he could sit next to him. “I’m sure you do…”

“No.” Nightmare bit. “I don’t. But Killer does and I just _know_ that’s all he’s going to be when we go out and I…”

“Then let him.” Dream said. “Just follow through, I’m sure Killer would like that-“

“But he’s _always_ the one starting things.” Nightmare said. “He’s always the one saying cute shit and trying to make me flustered or reaching over to hold my hand and kissing my cheek…I just…wouldn’t you get sick of it if you were him?”

Dream hummed. “If I really loved someone, then no I don’t think so.”

“But if Cross never offered that sort of thing in return.” Nightmare said. Dream’s frown intensified and he said nothing. “See?”

“So, do that then, Night.” Dream said as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t complain about it if there’s something you can do to fix it.”

“But-“

“Nightmare.”

“-I don’t know-“

“Nightmare.”

“-if I can, I mean-“

“Nightmare.”

“-how do you just-“

“Night!”

“-do something like tha-“

“Nightmare!” Dream yelled, finally cutting off his brother’s ranting. Taking a breath, he took Nightmare’s hands into his own. “You want to know how to do that? How to be sappy and romantic?” Nightmare raised an eyebrow at him. “Well?”

Hesitantly, and so small Dream almost missed it, Nightmare nodded. Smiling slightly, Dream reached over and poked him in the forehead. “You stop thinking about it.”

“What?” Nightmare said. “But that makes no sen-“

“Let me finish.” Dream said. “You don’t think with your _head_ , dummy. You think with your heart.”

“Dream that is so cliché it’s ridiculous.” Nightmare said.

“Alright, then how about this.” Dream said, beginning to get annoyed. “Do what you want to do.”

“What I want to do?” Nightmare asked.

Dream nodded. “If you want to hold his hand then do it, if you want to compliment him then do it. Don’t second guess yourself or think too much about what you’re doing.”

“But what if I-“

“He’ll appreciate the effort nonetheless.” Dream said. “Now, we’re going on this double date.”

“But-“

“Killer already knows about it so get going.”

“Dream!”

“You have two hours. Chop chop!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a lot of nonsense grouped together for your reading pleasure XD  
> I will most likely continue that date in the next chapter  
> And by 'most likely' I mean I will.  
> Hope you guys liked it! I love reading suggestions in the comments so if anyone has a vague idea of some shenanigans they'd like to see this squad get up to I'd love to see it!  
> Comments and kudos are always wonderful to see! <3  
> -Maggic


	4. Cold As Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ice skating date commences and ends in a disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter than I wanted it to be, but there was no way I could really make it any longer.  
> Hope you guys like it nonetheless! Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3  
> -Maggic

Killer applied the last bit of his eyeliner slowly, trying to keep the line straight even as his hand shook from barely contained excitement. He was going on another date, with Nightmare, and it was going to be the cutest shit ever.

The image of his boyfriend done up in a thick woollen sweater and a winter coat, probably a ridiculously nice one at that, scarf pulled up to his cheeks to hide any tell-tale flushing of his face, was enough to have Killer bouncing excitedly on his feet.

Something he had found out, in his short time of dating Nightmare, was that he didn’t get flustered from the things he had expected him to get flustered by. A kiss on the cheek? He just got a sweet smile in return. Walking in on Killer while he changed his shirt? Nope, not even the slightest tinge of pink. Compliments, however, were the sure-fire way to go. It was cute really, how embarrassed Nightmare would get when Killer would call him beautiful or amazing, and Killer abused this newfound power like a king.

Which was why he was filled with giddiness every time he and Nightmare got time to themselves. Of course, it wasn’t just them this time. Cross and Dream were tagging along on a double date. They were also going skating, which wasn’t something that Killer was very good at, but at least he’d have an excuse to hold Nightmare’s hand the whole time.

Dust, who was walking past the washroom, did a double-take and stopped in the doorway. “Are you putting on eyeliner?”

“Yup.” Killer said, finishing up the last of the line and grabbing a comb instead.

“Why?” Dust asked.

“Because Nightmare thinks I look good in it and I’m very gay.” Killer said as he begun fixing a few stray strands of his freshly dyed white hair. Dust laughed and continued his trip down the hallway.

“Fair.” He called over his shoulder.

When Killer was sure that he looked drop-dead gorgeous, he grabbed his wallet from his room and threw on his jacket. He had a date to slay.

~

Thinking back on the morning, Nightmare thought his little outburst had been exceedingly…unnecessary. There was nothing for him to be so worked up about, even if he was currently existing in a state of permanent hand-holding while Killer struggled to stay upright on the ice. His hands were warm though, and his smile was blindingly brilliant as always.

He had also worn eyeliner but that was besides the point.

Even if Killer looked _ridiculously_ good, the date didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary.

“Show off.” Killer said as Nightmare continued to skate backwards in front of him, their hands clasped tightly together as Nightmare practically pulled him around the rink.

“I could let you go you know?” Nightmare said, giving Killer’s arms a little tug and bringing him momentarily off balance.

“Asshole.” Killer said. “You trying to get me to fall and ruin this perfect ass?”

“First of all,” Nightmare began, moving so he was skating next to Killer instead of in front of him and letting one of their joined hands go, “you already fell on your ass when you first got on the ice. And secondly, it was never that perfect to begin with.”

“Oh? So, you mean you’ve been looking?” Killer teased. Nightmare abruptly let go of his hand and he glided forward a bit before falling backwards onto the ice. “Shit!”

“Oops.” Nightmare said, deadpan as he looked down at Killer, who sent him a halfhearted glare in return.

Dream sped past the two of them, swerving around other skaters and picking up speed. He rounded the corner the jumped into a double axle, almost landing it before his foot slid out from beneath him and he landed with a thud on the ice, laughter spilling from his lips even as Cross skated over to him with concern written on his face. Nightmare, feeling a little smug and maybe wanting to show off a little in front of his boyfriend, left Killer where he was sitting and sped away. He followed the same track that Dream had previously taken and took off into the same jump, landing it perfectly to the sound of cutting ice. He did another double axle, just for show, and slid to a stop a few feet away from Dream. His brother, ever the encouraging soul, clapped his gloved hands together and sent him a knowing look.

Killer grumbled under his breath and struggled to push himself to his feet, trying to stop his skates from sliding out from under him. Nightmare watched him struggle for a moment, a bit amused, before he skated over to him and reached out a hand.

"You need some help there?" Nightmare said, looking smug.

"Nah, I'm good." Killer said as he finally got his footing, ignoring the feeling of inadequacy that suddenly shot through him. It was just skating. Still, even when he stood up, he found his balance was still off and he ended up having to grab hold of Nightmare's arm before he toppled back onto the ice. Nightmare let out a little laugh.

"Hey, it's okay." Nightmare murmured, his other hand reaching across him to rest gently on top of Killer's, which was still gripping his arm. "I...don't mind having to help you, you know?"

Killer, who was very not used to his boyfriend saying anything so genuinely sweet, felt the heat rise to his face and was suddenly very interested in the colours of his skates. "Yeah...I...I know. Thanks."

Nightmare hummed out a laugh, the sound stirring pleasantly in Killer's gut. "What's this? Are you actually embarrassed for once?" Nightmare said.

"Hey!" Killer said. "You can't just say sweet shit like that and expect me not to get flustered!"

"...you thought it was sweet?" Nightmare asked, swerving so he was skating backwards in front of Killer again, both their hands clasped in between them.

"Well, yeah." Killer said. "But you don't have to pull me along if you'd rather do cool shit on the ice. I can go sit down."

Nightmare frowned, eyes narrowing suspiciously but also lacing with concern. "If...you don't want to skate we can go somewhere else?"

Killer shook his head, grip on Nightmare's hands tightening as he pulled himself closer. "No, no, I want you to have fun."

"But what about you? This is supposed to be a _date_ , y'know? Both of us having fun." Nightmare said as he came to a stop on the ice, Killer crashing into him as he was forced to stop, and wrapped his arms around Killer's waist. "Let's just go somewhere else."

"But, Night!"

"C'mon." Nightmare soothed. "Let's just go bowling or something. You like bowling, right?"

"Well...yeah..."

Nightmare smiled, the sight of it momentarily stunning Killer, and pulled them off the ice, where they shed their skates and climbed into Nightmare's car, speeding off downtown.

~

Killer was fairly confident in his bowling skills. Was he a pro? Nope, but he was a formidable rival.

At least, that's what he thought.

Turns out, among all the talents that Nightmare had, bowling was one of them.

And, if Killer was being honest, after Nightmare's fourth strike in a row, he was starting to think his boyfriend was cheating.

But it wasn't that that was pissing him off.

It was that Nightmare was being really, _really_ nice to him. Not that he didn't appreciate the compliments, or the help that Nightmare so readily offered, but it was constant. Killer was used to his boyfriend being helpful, the unofficial mom of their household, but now he was beginning to feel babied.

"Are you sure you don't want me to show you how?" Nightmare asked for the seventh time.

"I said I'm fine!" Killer said, frustration mounting as he missed the last standing pin for the second time. "I know how to bowl."

"I know, I just thought-"

"Can you stop babying me please?" Killer said. "I know you're naturally good at everything, but I can manage on my own."

Killer hadn't meant to say that, but he let it slip just like the bowling ball in his hand. Nightmare was quiet for a moment.

"...I'm not naturally good at everything." Nightmare said, voice small. Killer's chest tightened.

"Night, I'm sorry I didn't mean that."

"No, you did." Nightmare said. "You wouldn't have said it if you didn't."

"That's not true, I'm just frustrated." Killer said, turning his focus from the lanes to Nightmare.

"Well, I'm sorry I made you frustrated by trying to be nice." Nightmare grouched as he folded his arms across his chest.

"That's not-!" Killer broke off into a groan. "Nightmare you're not listening!"

"No, I'm listening." Nightmare said. "You're just confusing."

"How?!"

"Do you want me to be nice and helpful?" Nightmare said, voice raising only slightly. Killer found his annoyance growing at how calm Nightmare remained during this entire conversation. "Or do you want me to be an asshole?"

"I want you to be _you_ , Night!" Killer yelled. "And I want you to stop treating me like I'm incapable of doing things on my own!"

Nightmare blinked, shock momentarily flittering across his face. "Killer I'm-"

"You _are!_ " Killer continued to yell, drawing the attention of nearby people and yet not caring in the slightest. "Even if you're not aware you're doing it! I know I'm hopeless! I know I'm not capable of doing anything on my own! I've known that all my life! You're the last person I want to hear this from!"

"Killer, please!"

"No! Stop pretending you're doing this from a place of love when you deserve someone _so much better_ _than me!"_

Killer flung his hands over his mouth the moment the words escaped.

Ignoring how Nightmare rose from his chair, face contorted in confusion and concern, Killer fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> SIKE NO IM NOT MWAHAHAHAHAHA!  
> -Maggic


	5. Right Where I'm Meant To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the disaster date.

When Dream pulled up to his house with Cross, he was surprised and a little annoyed to see his brother’s car parked in the driveway. ‘ _What’s the point of having an apartment when you’re just gonna bring your boyfriend back here?’_ Dream thought to himself as he parked the car and slid out.

“They came back here?” Cross asked.

“Looks like it.” Dream said, hoping he wouldn’t be walking into anything that he would rather not be walking in on. When he opened the front door, however, only silence greeted them. His brother’s boots and jacket were placed by the door, but Dream saw no evidence of Killer being there. Feeling a familiar sensation of concern knot in his stomach, Dream climbed the stairs up into their living room.

“Night?” He called. As expected, there came no reply. Dream turned to his left to head down the small hallway that led to their bedrooms and knocked on Nightmare’s door. “Nightmare? I know you’re home.”

Cross came up the stairs, jacket thrown over his arm, and gave Dream a puzzled look. Dream shrugged his shoulders and knocked on his brother’s door again. “Night? I’m coming in.”

The lamp on the bedside table was on, but otherwise the room was dark, and the curtains were drawn, as they usually were anyway. Nightmare lay face down on his bed, arms curled around the pillow that his head was buried in, black tendrils resting limply by his sides. Dream furrowed his brow, walking over to the edge of his brother’s bed. When Cross didn’t follow him into the room, he turned back to him only to see Cross staring at Nightmare with wide confusion laced pupils. The reason struck him like lightning, and he hurried back over to Cross, grabbing him by the hands.

“Please don’t freak out.” Dream whisper screamed. “We’ll explain everything! Just…not right now.” Cross nodded, a bit numbly with his eyes still wide, and Dream kissed him gently out of his stupor before going back to sit on the edge of Nightmare’s bed.

“Nightmare? Is everything okay?” Dream asked. This time, his brother responded, turning his face so it was no longer buried in his pillow and fixing his muted purple stare on Dream. He gave a half shrug, reaching out to check his phone. The screen lit up, blank, and Nightmare turned it off again, placing it back in its place on the pillow next to him. Dream recognised the look of impassiveness on Nightmare’s face and sent his boyfriend a pleading look.

Cross gave a small nod and wandered back over the bedroom door. “I’ll just…go make some tea or…something.” Dream smiled at him, sending him a wink for his troubles.

When Cross was gone and the door was shut behind him, Dream shuffled so he was leaning up against the headboard of the bed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. He watched Nightmare for a minute, who had reburied his face into his pillow, and felt a frown tug on his lips.

“What happened?” Dream asked. When his brother shrugged again, Dream smacked him lightly on the arm. “I’m serious, Night. Talk to me.”

Nightmare sighed and turned his face, staring blankly somewhere near Dream’s hip. He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He said, muffled slightly by his pillow.

“You don’t know?” Dream said. “What do you mean?”

“I _don’t know_.” Nightmare said. “I thought everything was going great but…”

“But?” Dream encouraged.

Nightmare shook his head, hiding his face in his pillow again. “I don’t know what I did…”

“Nightmare for god’s sake just _tell me what happened_.” Dream said. “I can’t help you if I have no idea what’s going on!”

Nightmare groaned and flipped onto his back, bringing the pillow with him momentarily before he threw it against the wall on the opposite side of his bed. “He didn’t like skating, so I took him bowling instead, cause he said he likes it, and then he just…went off on me and said I was babying him!” Nightmare said.

Dream raised an eyebrow. “Well…were you?”

“He was getting frustrated at things, so I offered to help him.” Nightmare explained. “How is that babying?”

“Did he say anything else?” Dream asked.

“He…said a lot.” Nightmare said, raising his arms to dig his palms into his eyes. Two of his tentacles followed the motion, curling around his forearms. “Like I should stop pretending I’m offering help out of a place of love, and that I deserved someone better than him. Since I’m so ‘naturally good at everything’.”

Dream hummed thoughtfully, reaching over to pry his brother’s hands away from his eyes. “It sounds like Killer just feels inadequate. That’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but I should have _done_ something!” Nightmare said, tendrils flailing outwards from under him. “I should have gone after him when he ran off instead of just waiting for him to come back! And he didn’t! I waited for two hours, Dream. And he hasn’t been answering my calls or my texts!”

“Night, please calm down.” Dream said, trying to sound soothing. “I know you’re stressed out and worried, but there’s nothing you can do until Killer calms down and talks to you.”

Nightmare let out a frustrated groan and rolled onto his side, facing away from Dream, tentacles curling tightly around him.

~

Killer felt like an idiot.

Well, he’d been feeling like an idiot for the majority of the evening, but this was really the icing on the cake.

_17 missed calls from Nightmare_

God he was stupid.

A stupid, idiotic, _coward_.

He hadn’t meant to spew his thoughts like that, he hadn’t meant to tell Nightmare something that had been bothering him since the day that Nightmare agreed to go on a date with him. Part of him knew it was better this way, Nightmare would find out eventually, but he had absolutely ruined what was supposed to be a lovely night out with his beautiful boyfriend.

And he couldn’t even work up the guts to call him back.

Pathetic.

Killer rubbed at his eyes, unintentionally smearing his eyeliner but not caring in the slightest, it was already running in black lines down his cheeks, as he trudged back to the apartment. He had taken the bus to the skating rink, since he assumed Nightmare would be coming home with him. He had assumed this date would go a _lot_ better than it had.

Still feeling like complete and utter shit, Killer pulled out his phone again and reread messages he had already seen.

**Night <3:** Killer where are you?

**Night <3:** Pick up your phone

**Night <3: **Killer I’m serious

**Night <3: **Please? Talk to me

**Night <3:** Whatever I did I’m sorry

**Night <3: **Please answer me

Killer was officially the scum of the earth.

When he entered the apartment, it was quiet, and the lights were off. Dust and Horror were out for the night, it seemed, but while the emptiness would have been lovely had he come back with his boyfriend, now it only served to intensify the loneliness of it all.

He wasn’t sure why he had to snap like that. Nightmare was just being nice, strangely nice, but there wasn’t any reason for him to go off on him like that. Why he couldn’t put aside his insignificant insecurities for one night was beyond him, and now he had gone and made Nightmare upset, made him think that this was somehow _his_ fault and not Killer’s. His throat felt tight, but as he settled onto the living room couch, he knew what he should do.

Three hours after the last message was sent, he called Nightmare back.

The phone was answered on the first ring.

Killer swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even. “Hi…”

“Are you okay? Where are you?” Nightmare said, voice cutting through the speakers of his phone and echoing in the space around him. The relief in his boyfriend’s voice made Killer’s gut twist painfully.

“At the apartment. But-“

“I’m coming.” Nightmare said. The twisting in his gut intensified.

“Night hang o-“ Killer started to say, but the line went dead.

So, he sat in the dark and waited in nervous anticipation for twenty minutes, trying not to give into the urge to curl up and pretend the world didn’t exist.

~

Nightmare was already running out to his car when he had asked Killer where he was, and he paid little mind to the speed limits as he hurried back across town to their apartment.

He hadn’t missed how thick Killer’s voice had sounded over the phone, how upset and scared he had sounded. Just the thought was enough to make Nightmare’s chest feel tight. He hadn’t meant for things to turn out this way, but then again bad luck seemed to follow him like metal to a magnet.

As he pulled into his parking spot at the apartment complex, he remembered that he had forgotten his jacket in his hurry, and he silently hoped that the dark would conceal the curling inky masses protruding from his spine. Couldn’t do much about it when he was inside though. Oh well, if some old lady saw them, people would probably just think she was senile.

Not wanting to waste time waiting for the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third, and final, floor of the building. Slightly winded but not caring at all, he ran down the hall until he reached a familiar room. What he failed to realise until he went to grab his keys was that, while he had forgotten his jacket, he had also forgotten his keys and wallet as well. He cursed himself silently as he knocked on the door.

“Killer?” Nightmare said, trying to keep his voice low considering it was past midnight. “Can you let me in please? I forgot my keys.” There was nothing but silence for a minute or two, and Nightmare contemplated knocking again, when the lock on the door clicked. Barely a second afterwards, Nightmare was throwing open the door and running into the apartment.

~

Killer hadn’t gotten far from the door when it was thrown hastily open, hitting the wall with a thud, and he was engulfed in a tight embrace of a mixture of arms and tentacles, his face pressed securely into Nightmare’s shoulder. His boyfriend laced a hand up into his hair, keeping him there.

“Thank god.” Nightmare breathed. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Night…” Killer began, voice quavering as he wrapped his arms around Nightmare’s shoulders, “I’m sorry I didn’t me-“

“Shush.” Nightmare said. “Don’t apologise.”

“But I made you worry.” Killer said as he tightened his hold slightly.

“I would have worried anyway even if you did call me back right away.” Nightmare said into his shoulder, the warmth of his breath warming the fabric of Killer’s shirt. “I was afraid something happened to you.”

“I can…take care of myself.” Killer said, a familiar bitterness beginning to seep through him. Nightmare pulled away and out of the hug, one of his tendrils closing the door behind them. He stayed close though, cupping Killer’s face in his hands and rubbing gently at the lines of eyeliner going down his cheeks.

“I know you can.” Nightmare soothed. “I never once doubted that Killer, and I know that I can be overbearing at times and I’m _glad_ you called me out on it, even if I bitched at you a little.”

“Yeah but I shouldn’t have…”

“Shouldn’t have what?” Nightmare said. “Talked about your feelings?” Killer had the decency to look a little sheepish, avoiding Nightmare’s gaze to instead stare at the front of his boyfriend’s shirt. Nightmare sighed. “Trust me Killer, I understand that, okay?”

“I ruined the entire night.” Killer muttered. “Just because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

Nightmare pulled Killer’s head to his chest and wrapped his arms around his back. “Has this…been bothering you for a while?” A bit hesitantly, Killer nodded, and Nightmare let out a sigh. “Well, I’m glad we’re talking about it now. Better late then never, yeah?” Killer nodded again against his chest. “Let’s go sit down, okay?”

They parted briefly, Nightmare still keeping their fingers knitted tightly together, and walked further into the apartment to sit on the couch. They sat down an arm’s length apart, but Killer soon found himself craving the contact he had previously had and released Nightmare’s hand, opting to knock Nightmare backwards onto the couch and curl up against his chest, hands pressing into Nightmare’s back. Nightmare only chuckled and shifted a little, tendrils curling around Killer in a way that was so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

“For what it’s worth, Killer,” Nightmare started, beginning to run his fingers through Killer’s fluffy white hair, “I think you’re incredible. You’re so…patient and understanding and you never fail to believe in me even when I don’t believe in myself. You understand what I mean?”

Killer nodded, feeling tears begin to form in his eyes.

“You’re so wonderful to me even though I’m absolutely hopeless when it comes to being romantic.”

Killer gave a watery chuckle.

“And I…wanted to try and repay all those nice things you always do for me tonight but…I guess I was a bit overwhelming.” Nightmare said, watching Killer raise his head to look at him with confused and glassy dark eyes.

“…You asking if I wanted help every five seconds was you being romantic?” Killer asked.

Nightmare flushed a little. “I made it clear I was bad at being romantic.” Killer let out a laugh and rubbed his eyes, clearing them of gathering tears. “And…I’m sorry for making you feel the way you did.”

Killer shook his head. “No, no, don’t be. It’s just…” Killer took a breath. “You’re so amazing at everything you do and you’re so brilliant that sometimes I just can’t really believe you’re _mine_ and that you’d want to be with someone as hopeless as me.”

“Killer.” Nightmare said, reaching up to brush his thumb along Killer’s cheek. “The only ‘hopeless’ that you are is a ‘hopeless romantic’.”

Killer laughed again, leaning down so they were chest to chest and burying his face into the crook of Nightmare’s neck, fingers curling into Nightmare’s soft sweater. “Only for you, babe.”

“Good.” Nightmare muttered into his hair, placing a soft kiss on the crown of Killer’s head as the grip of his tentacles around Killer tightened slightly. “I don’t like sharing.”

Killer snorted and pressed his forehead into the warm pale skin beneath him, basking in the soft lavender-y smell of whatever perfume or cologne Nightmare always wore. He was tempted, but only for a moment before he shoved the thought from his mind, to place a gentle kiss to the porcelain skin, to see if it tasted of the lavender it smelt of.

“Killer?” Nightmare said, tugging slightly on the hair at the back of Killer’s head until he got the message and raised his head.

“Yeah, Night?” Killer said. His breath left him in a huff as Nightmare grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down towards him, noses brushing and mouths only millimetres apart.

“I love you.” Nightmare said, barely a whisper, and connected their lips for the first time. Killer’s brain promptly stopped responding, and it was only when Nightmare had begun to pull away that it caught up with him and he pressed back with an urgency he had never experienced before. Something about Nightmare was intoxicating him, whether that was the gentle pressure of the tentacles on his back, the steadiness of the hands gripping his shirt, the thrumming of his heart seeping through into Killer’s own chest, or the soft and warm glide of Nightmare’s lips against his, he wasn’t sure.

But when they finally parted and Nightmare looked up at him with hazy violet eyes, stray tendrils curling and twitching in the air around his head, and smiled at him, Killer started to believe that he might be deserving of the beautiful boyfriend the universe had blessed him with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this was so cute that I legit didn't want to stop writing it.  
> P.S: We'll step a little bit more into the humorous side of things starting next chapter, now that Cross knows Nightmare's secret.  
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see!  
> -Maggic


	6. Game Night, but it's really more of a Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust invites the gang to the apartment for game night, including Dream.

“So, can you, like, feel with them?”

Nightmare raised an eyebrow at Cross’s question. From where he sat wedged between his brother and said brother’s boyfriend on the couch in his and Dream’s house, Nightmare shifted, uncomfortable under Cross’s intense gaze. His tentacles seemed to sense his discomfort; they curled closer to him, looping loosely around his shoulders as if to hold him in place.

“What do you mean?” Nightmare said.

“Well, if I was to…” Cross said as he reached out and poked one of Nightmare’s tentacles roughly. Nightmare flinched, recoiling as the abused tendril curled tightly against his back and a sharp sting of pain, much like that of a hard pinch, rolled down his spine.

“Hey! That hurt, asshole!” Nightmare hissed, slapping Cross on the arm.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Cross said, wincing and rubbing his arm. He thought for a moment, fingers rubbing together. “Those feel weird as hell man…”

“Yeah, try having them growing out of your spine.” Nightmare said.

“To be honest,” Dream said as he pulled up a knee to hold it to his chest, “I’m kind of surprised how well you’re taking this, Crossy.”

“Well, I mean…” Cross began with a shrug. “Yeah, it’s weird as hell but it’s not like Nightmare is any different.”

“Except for the fact that I can stab you ten times easier now.” Nightmare said, trying to ignore how relieved he was now that everyone in his life knew about these things. It didn’t make the tentacles any less annoying, but it was nice to know that no one was completely terrified of him.

“Fair.” Cross laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell the guys.”

Nightmare waved a hand and stood up, wandering over to the kitchen. “They already know.”

“What?!” Cross cried. “I was the last one!?”

“Not my fault you’re unobservant.” Nightmare said with a shrug, pouring himself a glass of water. “The guys have known for months now.”

Cross turned to Dream with a look of absolute betrayal on his face. “You didn’t tell me?”

Dream shrugged helplessly. “It’s not really for me to tell.” He shot Nightmare a look that said ‘save me’, but Nightmare only shrugged again, looking back at his brother apathetically.

“In all fairness,” Nightmare begun to explain, “the only reason the guys found out was 'cause Dust saw me without my sweater on one morning.”

“I remember you telling me that.” Dream said as he laughed.

Cross continued to pout and grumble under his breath until Dream turned to him, apologising and kissing him softly. Nightmare tried to resist wrinkling his nose at the display of affection, but it happened anyway. He finished up his glass of water and put it in the sink, turning back to find his brother and Cross still locked in their kiss. He felt his tendrils twitch in annoyance as the two of them seemed to forget entirely who else was currently in the room. Grumbling a bit to himself, Nightmare walked over to where they sat on the couch and plopped down right between them, tentacles pushing the two apart so he wouldn’t wind up halfway onto one of their laps.

“Remember me?” He announced, annoyance lacing his voice as he cast a disapproving look onto Cross. “Still here.”

Cross coughed awkwardly and shifted in his seat, while Dream seemed to be avoiding his gaze altogether. In an attempt to lessen the awkwardness that had settled into the atmosphere, one of Nightmare’s tentacles wormed away from him and grabbed the television remote, passing it into his hands effortlessly. He turned the TV on, and the noise helped shake the discomfort out of them.

“So…” Cross began. “When did Dust say to come over for game night?”

Nightmare shrugged, tendrils curling lazily above his head. “He said any time after six, so we have a bit.”

Cross nodded and went back to watching the TV, but Dream seemed to remember something after glancing at the clock.

“I should probably start dinner then.” Dream said, rising from the couch. Cross followed like puppy that he was.

“I’ll help!” Cross offered, and the two of them made their way into the kitchen area. With the other two current occupants off of the couch, Nightmare’s cat decided to make herself known, wandering away from where she had been sleeping in the sunlight spilling in from a nearby window to make herself comfortable in Nightmare’s lap.

“Hi there, Sunshine.” Nightmare cooed to the golden tabby, running his fingers through her soft fur. After a long moment of hearing no tell-tale noises of cooking coming from the kitchen, he frowned again. “I’m _still here!_ ”

Laughter was his only response.

~

“What the fuck?!” Dust cried, futilely twisting his remote. “You guys can’t work together, that’s cheating!”

“Says who?” Dream said with a smile.

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategising.” Nightmare added as he watched his and Dream’s characters race through the finish line. “You were the one that suggested Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know you two would team up.” Dust said, putting down his remote after he ended the race in fourth place.

“Regardless of if we teamed up or not,” Nightmare began, accepting the raspberry cooler that Killer handed him with a kiss on his cheek, “Dream would still kick your ass.”

Dream laughed lightly, almost bashfully. “Stop exaggerating.” Dream said as he elbowed his brother’s side. “I’m not _that_ good at Mario Kart.”

“You haven’t beat me yet.” Nightmare said. “And you’ve been stuck with me since birth.”

When Dream said nothing, only folding his arms across his chest and pouting a bit, Dust picked his remote back up and looked at him.

“Alright then, Dreamboat.” Dust said, ignoring the look that Cross sent him. “Prove it. 1 V 1 me.”

“…are you sure?” Dream asked as his eyes lit up at the prospect of friendly competition.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dust said, eye twitching in annoyance as a shit-eating grin, one that was eerily similar to Nightmare’s, creeped up Dream’s cheeks. Nightmare slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sudden wave of giggles that erupted in him, tendrils curling wildly.

“Well…” Dream began. “I don’t want to crush your fragile masculinity _too_ much.”

They stared at each other as Horror choked on his drink and Killer burst into laughter. Then, without a word, started up a new game with only the two of them.

“Just try to crush it, pretty-boy.”

~

Some time later, after the Mario Kart competition had finished and Dream, as expected, came away victorious, they had all realised that it had gotten decently late, and so, decided to settle down and watch a few movies. The first two were horror and thriller movies, which Dream personally wasn’t a fan of, but had grown used to watching them with Nightmare, who liked to laugh at how ridiculous some of the plot lines were. Regardless, it gave Dream a good excuse to cuddle up into Cross’s lap. When they were starting up the third movie, a comedy that was much more up Dream’s alley, he spared a glance to his brother on the opposite side of the couch and found him in a position similar to his own. Where himself and Cross tried to take up as little space as possible, Cross’s legs folded neatly under him as he sat across his lap, his brother and Killer did the exact opposite, Killer lounging across the couch with his back propped up and Nightmare sprawled on top of him, head resting in the crook of Killer’s neck and positioned so he could see the television. If Dream wasn’t currently feeling so relaxed and content in his lover’s arms, he would have teased his brother about the gentle curling and swaying of the tentacles on his back, but he was, before anything else, a good brother, so he decided to say nothing when he saw Killer press a gentle kiss to Nightmare’s forehead and he could have sworn the tentacles curled in a way that made them look vaguely heart shaped.

“What are you smiling about?” Cross whispered. Dream looked up at him and shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, snuggling closer into Cross’s chest and turning his attention back to the movie.

When the movie had inevitably ended, Dream felt incredibly drowsy and Nightmare fallen into a deep sleep. Killer didn’t seem to mind so much, running a hand up and down Nightmare’s spine and joining in on the quiet conversation that had erupted only occasionally. They all fell silent after a few moments, it being well past three in the morning, and Horror studied Nightmare with a look of curiosity that slowly merged into one of playful malice.

“Hey, Dream?” Horror said. Dream turned his groggy eyes onto him.

“Yes?” Dream asked.

“Have you ever tried to, like, braid Nightmare’s tentacles?”

Dream only stared at him for a moment, tired brain still processing what Horror was saying, before a playful grin of his own spread onto his face.

“No,” He said deviously. “No, I haven’t.”

Killer laughed, trying to keep it muffled so as to not wake the sleeping form lying on him. “Don’t include me in this, I’m gonna be the first one he hits when he wakes up.”

~

Nightmare awoke to the sound of poorly concealed laughter which, from his experiences, was never a good thing to wake up to. Unless you were six years old, the laughter was your brother’s, and it was Christmas morning. A little afraid of what might be awaiting him, he opened his eyes.

He was still lying on Killer, so that hadn’t changed, and his face was still partially hidden in Killer’s neck, so they couldn’t have written anything in sharpie on it. When the laughter cut off abruptly as they realised he was awake, he only felt his suspicion grow.

“Good morning beautiful.” Killer sang, though his voice was low and tired.

“What time is it?” Nightmare mumbled as he pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes, vision bleary from wearing his contacts too long.

“A little after 4 am.” Killer said, flashing him a sleepy smile that was laced with something Nightmare couldn’t quite place. Disregarding it, Nightmare shuffled backwards so he was kneeling on the couch instead of over Killer, almost knocking his brother over in the process. Dream grabbed him by the back of his shoulders, laughing. Nightmare raised an eyebrow. It was too late in the night, or too early in the morning he guessed, for Dream to be laughing. He figured his brother had passed out some time after he did.

“What did you do?” Nightmare accused, glaring at his twin.

“Nothing~.” Dream said, though his smile gave him away and Nightmare found himself frowning harder.

“Dream…” He warned.

Dream smiled innocently at him and rose from the couch. “I’m going to go get some water.”

Deciding that he was too tired to really deal with his brother’s shenanigans, Nightmare yawned and reached his arms above his head to stretch, waiting to feel the familiar tug of his muscles near his spine as his tendrils copied the movement.

It never came.

In comparison to what he had grown accustomed to feeling from them, minute twitches of muscle and occasional brushes of the oily appendages against his shoulder blades, there was only a…tightness? As if he was wearing a tight shirt over them or they had somehow gotten tangled up in blankets in his sleep.

He looked over his shoulder and found his tentacles wound into a tight plait that extended about a foot behind him.

“Dream, I swear to god!” Nightmare yelled as laughter rang out around him.

“It wasn’t all me!” Dream said from the kitchen, words punctuated by giggles. “Blame Horror!”

“No, don’t blame Horror!” Horror defended, ducking as a pillow came hurling towards his head. “Dream is the one who braided them!”

“You were the one who suggested it!”

“I don’t give a shit who did what!” Nightmare continued to yell, throwing a projectile towards the kitchen in the vain hope that it would hit Dream over the counter. “You’re all fucking assholes!” Dust was on the ground at this point, laughing hysterically with tears of mirth running down his cheeks. Killer wasn’t any better.

Nightmare whirled on his boyfriend. “Why didn’t you do anything?!”

Killer raised his hands in defence, still laughing. “Don’t get mad at me! I had nothing to do with this!”

“You could have woken me up.” Nightmare said, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at Killer.

“And spoil the fun?” Killer teased as he sat up. “Relax babe, it was just a harmless prank.”

Nightmare continued to glare at him for a minute before he shifted his glance, first to a slightly winded Dust, then to a still cowering Horror, and lastly to a very smug looking Dream who had yet to leave the refuge of the kitchen area. He noticed one person missing.

“Where’s Cross?” Nightmare asked, a little worried that the person in question would pop up somewhere to scare the shit out of him.

“He got called into work.” Dream explained. “So, he went home to get a few hours of sleep before his shift.”

Nightmare hummed before intensifying his glare on his brother. “I’m going to get you back for this.”

“Oh, goody.” Dream said, completely sarcastic as he finished his glass of water and set it by the sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had absolutely no motivation to write this thing and then all of a sudden I typed up 1500 words in under an hour and finished it.  
> It's midnight.  
> I've lost control of my life.  
> But i hope you all like it!  
> Comments and kudos are always lovely to see <3  
> -Maggic


	7. A Welcome Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and Cross leave the picture for some well deserved 'them' time, and a new character enters the scene.  
> It might be just the distraction Nightmare needed to stop worrying about his MIA twin.

“You’re sure you have everything?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got your toothbrush, and stuff?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

“Are you sure?”

Dream heaved a sigh, fighting the urge to roll his eyes and, instead, folded his arms across his chest.

“ _Yes,_ Nightmare!” He said. “Now stop pestering me!”

They had arrived at the airport about twenty minutes ago, with a decent amount of time for himself and Cross to get through security checks and still catch their flight on time. Nightmare wasn’t coming with them, but he had come along to see them off and, as much as Dream appreciated it and was thankful to see his brother once more before they left for two or so months, Nightmare was being just a _little_ overbearing. He was a grown-ass adult, he could pack his own suitcase. Nightmare sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. If his tendrils hadn’t been hidden under his hoodie, Dream knew they would have been waving around anxiously.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll stop.” Nightmare muttered. “I’m just…”

“Worried, I know.” Dream said. “Don’t be, I’ve got Cross with me and I know how to navigate an airport, Night.”

“I know that!” Nightmare said, scowling slightly. “I know you can handle yourself, it’s just…it’s a long flight to Europe.”

Dream shook his head fondly, letting go of his suitcase in favour of grabbing his brother’s hand. “It is, but I’ve got movies, music, and this lovable idiot beside me to keep me company.”

Nightmare sent Dream a look. “Europe is a big place.”

“Yep, but there’s maps, Cross is fluent in Spanish and my French isn’t all that bad.” Dream said. Nightmare glanced away from him, and Dream didn’t need to have those blue-green orbs focused on him to see the concern laced in them. He gave their joined hands a squeeze. “ _Relax_.”

“…Sorry.”

Dream shook his head again, but opted to change the subject. “Are you gonna sneak Sunshine into the apartment while I’m gone?”

“Nah,” Nightmare said, relaxing slightly. “I think I’ll just stay at the house, it’s easier that way.”

Dream frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, I know someone has to take care of her, but are you okay being there all by yourself till I get back?” It was a rather large house, and Dream knew just how lonely it could get after a while. Thankfully, Nightmare and Cross were only ever a phone call or a twenty-minute drive away. But now, that wasn’t the case, and it wouldn’t be for a month or so.

Nightmare shrugged. “I can just get Killer or the guys to visit, I won’t be alone all the time.”

“If you’re sure…” Dream said, trying to shake his own worry. He didn’t want to stress about his brother while he was on _vacation_ of all things, but…

This would be the longest they had ever been away from each other. And, because of the long-distance charges to the data on his phone, Dream doubted he would even be able to call or text his brother while he was away. It was a little worrying now that he actually gave it proper thought. But, this would be good for them, even if it would be a little hard at first. It was just another step in processing the fact that the other wouldn’t always be there and, as much as it made Dream sad, he knew it had to happen.

With a heavy heart, he checked the time and grabbed his suitcase.

“We should probably get going.” Dream said.

“Right…” Nightmare said with a nod. His eyes bore sharply into Dream’s for a moment. “Be safe.”

“I promise.” Dream said as he smiled.

The two brothers held a small staring contest for a minute before they embraced, tight and reassuring all at once.

“You be safe too, okay?” Dream mumbled into Nightmare’s shoulder.

“Yessir.” Nightmare replied.

When they parted, Dream sent him a smile. “I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

“…sure.” Nightmare said, raising an eyebrow and giving Dream a small smile of his own. Something in Nightmare’s expression told him how unsure he was of that statement, but Nightmare only ended their conversation with a simple “have fun.”

Cross gave Nightmare one of those awkward side hugs and the two of them departed, Dream sending his brother one last wave as they walked.

Nightmare watched them go until Dream’s blond hair disappeared from view. Then, he sighed and decided to head home, hoping Sunshine or Killer could soothe his nerves.

~

For the first two or three weeks, Nightmare hadn’t really noticed all that much that Dream wasn’t there. He was busy, incredibly so, with not just work but his school as well, not to mention taking care of a cat and making time for his boyfriend. But, as due dates came and went, and the animal shelter he worked at entered their slow season and cut his hours, he found himself spending more and more time at home.

The house seemed much larger now, more so than it ever had.

He tried not to let himself dwell on it, on the silence and emptiness of it all. He organised the basement area and sorted his mother’s things, making sure to put _that_ book away somewhere where no one else would accidentally stumble upon it, and packed up all the old stuff they would never use again to donate to a thrift store. Nightmare knew his brother would get upset with him if he just threw it away.

Killer came over one day when Nightmare was killing time by baking things. Or, rather, _trying_ to bake things. Nothing came out bad, per say, but at least two of his cookie batches were slightly blackened around the edges. See, the thing about putting something in an oven, is that you had to remember to take it out, and with his boyfriend there and his natural instinct to multitask, forgetting about the cookies was bound to happen.

When Nightmare had finished and the mess had been cleaned, he settled onto the couch with Killer to munch on the pastries and watch whatever movie was currently playing. As nice as it was to have Killer cuddled up in his arms and crunching animatedly on one of his cookies, Nightmare found himself growing bored of the movie and instead opened his phone to scroll through his Instagram. The second he opened the app, Dream’s newest post appeared to him. It was a photo of himself and Cross, posing in a rather cliché couple-y way in front of the Eiffel Tower. Nightmare was thankful that Dream was at least giving him _some_ way of making sure his brother, and Cross of course, wasn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Even so, seeing Dream, even in a picture, after so long of _not_ seeing him sent a painful stab through his chest. He turned off his phone and tried to repress a sigh.

Killer, somehow always in tune with his boyfriend’s emotions, paused the movie and looked up at him.

“You okay?” He asked, rubbing a gentle circle onto the back of Nightmare’s hand where it rested across his stomach.

Nightmare shrugged. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You don’t really seem it.” Killer said with a pout. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing!” Nightmare said. “It’s just…he’s having fun.”

Killer knew who he was talking about without having to ask, but raised an eyebrow anyway. “…it’s bothering you that he’s having fun?”

“No! Of course not!” Nightmare denied. “It’s just…” He pulled Killer a little tighter against his chest and buried his face in fluffy pale hair, tentacles curling snugly around them, clenching at the fabric of Killer’s shirt. “I might…kind of…sort of…”

“Miss him?” Killer finished for him, amused. When Nightmare gave a small, barely there, nod, Killer laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” Nightmare outright _whined_.

“You!” Killer teased. “What are you so embarrassed about?”

“Shut up!”

“What’s wrong with you missing him?”

“I said shut up!”

“You know what, Night?” Killer said, grinning broadly even as his boyfriend’s face stayed hidden in his hair. “I feel like you would be a lot less grumpy if you could just admit that you have other feeling’s besides ‘fuck off’.”

“…I do…” Nightmare said, slightly muffled.

“’Give me affection right fucking now’ isn’t an emotion.” Killer said.

“Stop making fun of me, you ass!” Nightmare said as one of his tentacles batted Killer lightly on the shoulder.

Killer giggled and wriggled slightly in Nightmare’s grasp, waiting for the other’s hold on him to loosen enough for him to turn around. Nightmare, no longer able to hide in Killer’s hair, kept his head down until Killer’s pleasantly cool hands cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at him. Killer smiled at him, shaking his head a little bit, and pecked Nightmare softly on the lips.

“Never.” Killer said. “You’re too much fun to make fun of.”

“I hate you.” Nightmare grumbled, face no less warm after Killer’s display of affection.

“What a shame.” Killer said. “Because I love you _very_ much.”

Nightmare’s face burned and he raised a hand to push Killer’s face away from him, tendrils curling in embarrassment around them, his other hand flying up to cover his face. “Stop it!”

“No!” Killer said, laughter edging his voice. “I will never stop telling my _beautiful, amazing, wonderful_ boyfriend how much I _love him_!”

“Killer!”

Killer watched his boyfriend change to covering his face with both hands in a futile attempt to save face and laughed, leaning in to pepper the back of his hands with soft kisses until Nightmare let out an embarrassed whine.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Killer said. “But only if you stop hiding and give me a kiss.”

Nightmare grumbled something into his hands and, after a moment or two, peeled them away from his face and frowned at Killer. Killer noticed, with slight satisfaction, that his cheeks were still slightly pink. He soon forgot to be distracted by that when Nightmare’s arms wrapped around his neck, tentacles curling around his back, and he pulled him into a kiss. Killer immediately lost himself in it, eyes fluttering closed as his hands came up to hold Nightmare’s jaw. He tried not to shudder as Nightmare’s teeth nipped softly at his lips, always pulling back just a moment too soon for Killer to deepen it. When they parted, Nightmare looking at him with a rather smug look, Killer didn’t hesitate to lunge back in and passionately connect the two of them once again.

~

Nightmare sighed, frowning at the computer screen in front of him as he typed furiously away at a paper for his law class. The University library was relatively empty, considering it was a weekend, and the closest person in the place still sat about three seats away from him. Ideally, Nightmare would have rather worked on his paper on his home computer, but the old hunk of junk had decided to conveniently stop working that morning. So, after dropping the damn thing off at an electronics store to get fixed, he drove to the campus library to at least get some work done. He rubbed at his eye as he rewrote a sentence for the fifth time and contemplated saving what he _had_ finished and just going home.

“Fucking fuck this shit!”

The cry came from his left, a few computers down, where one of the only other people currently in the library sat. Nightmare watched the younger man take off his red framed glasses and toss them onto the table next to the monitor, rubbing furiously at his eyes and leaning back in his chair. Nightmare took in the messy state of the other’s dark hair and the littering of coffee cups and snack wrappers around where he sat and guessed that he had been here for a while.

“You, uh…” Nightmare began, awkward and without knowing why he was starting a conversation. “You okay?”

The man turned his amber eyes, rimmed with dark circles, onto him and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just…do-don’t let anyone con-vince you to s-switch to computer science.” He said, voice stumbling and wavering in pitch in a way that was so unusual to Nightmare that it intrigued him.

“Is that what you’re doing?” Nightmare asked.

The man nodded and turned his monitor slightly so Nightmare could see. Across the screen lay an array of rows filled with numbers and letters, brilliantly coloured and splayed across a dark background. “I’m c-coding right now, but it’s being a little bi-tch.”

Nightmare winced just from seeing the jarring colours once, wondering how someone could stare at that all day. Then again, the other man did wear glasses, unsurprisingly. “Yikes. Why do it if you hate it so much then?”

“I d-don’t hate it when it wo-works.” The man replied, picking his glasses back up and slipping them on. “What about y-you? What’re you taking?”

“Just a general law degree at the moment.” Nightmare said. “I’m not sure if I want to go into business law or criminal law yet.”

The other man made a noise. “That sounds awfully dull.”

“You’d be surprised.” Nightmare said. “It’s not as boring as people make it out to be. However…this paper can honestly suck my ass.”

“I believe it.” The other said with a laugh. They were silent for a minute before he spoke again. “I’m Error, b-by the way.”

Nightmare raised an eyebrow at the name, but decided he really wasn’t one to talk. “Nightmare.”

With introductions out of the way, they worked for the remainder of the afternoon in silence, only interrupting it with easy conversation a few times. Nightmare found that he actually liked talking to Error. The programmer had a very similar sense of humour, and had made him genuinely laugh a few times. It was…strange. Nightmare had never been good at making friends, but it almost seemed easy now. In the end, Nightmare gained another phone number to add to his relatively small list of contacts on his phone, and headed home feeling relatively good about himself.

~

**Nightmare:** Finals are a bitch

**Nightmare:** Why do they exist so close together?

**Error:** It’s like they want us to kill ourselves or something

**Nightmare:** you stfu

**Nightmare:** you just have a project due

**Error:** wanna trade bitch?

**Error:** you try making an anti-virus by hand

**Nightmare:** you made a decision to do computer science

**Nightmare:** don’t you bitch about it

**Error:** YOU FUCKING STARTED THIS CONVERSATION BY BITCHING ABOUT YOUR DEGREE!

Nightmare smirked down at his phone and decided to not respond to Error’s calling out of his blatant hypocrisy. Killer looked up from his own phone.

“Whatcha laughing about?” Killer asked.

“Error.” Nightmare said.

Killer raised an eyebrow. “Should I be jealous?”

“Not at all.” Nightmare said. “He’s got a boyfriend, and he’s not my type anyway.”

“Glad to hear.” Killer said, his own smile creeping onto his face.

“You two would get along.” Nightmare said.

“You think?” Killer asked.

“Yeah. You’re both assholes.”

Killer only laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY Error is here!  
> Time for some boys bonding over being complete and utter assholes to each other and yet STILL platonically loving the shit out of each other!  
> Dream and Cross shall return, but I think it's time Nightmare learns to fend for himself a little bit  
> Hope you guys liked it! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see! <3  
> -Maggic


	8. But Nobody Came

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!  
> This chapter does have violence and blood in it! Though no gore, it does involve some side characters dying. It's nothing super descriptive, but that is by my standards so:  
> Please don't read if any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable!  
> This has been a PSA announcement! <3

Killer didn’t go to university.

Not because he wasn’t smart enough to, but if you asked his asshole friends and boyfriend, that was what they would tell you.

The truth was far from that, and something he hoped to never have to explain to them. It wasn’t exactly easy to talk about.

When Killer was younger, he wanted to be a doctor. It was a stupid, childish dream, and even if he was smart, he doubted he was _that_ brilliant. He was fascinated by the human body, however, and he loved his science classes throughout elementary and high school. It hadn’t changed if he was being completely honest, and he wondered if that was one of the reasons why his boyfriend fascinated him so much.

Regardless, he had wanted to be a doctor. He was prepared to become one.

And then…the thing with his brother happened.

It had been a complete accident; they were just being stupid kids, but after that, after his brother had been killed ~~because of him~~ and his own parents turned on him in their grief, after he had to spend just about two years in juvenile prison, Killer didn’t think he deserved to live that kind of lifestyle.

It wasn’t like he could either. Universities and Colleges that he wanted to get into did checks on this sort of thing, and becoming a doctor was a no go if you had already killed someone, however accidental it had been.

His friends had no idea how accurate their alias of ‘Killer’ for him was.

That’s what he was, after all.

So, he tried his best to live his life to the fullest that he could. If not for himself, then for his brother who he had so carelessly ripped from the world when he was no older than fifteen.

He didn’t have many career options available to him, but he _did_ graduate high school. Killer bounced around from working in fast food, to working in restaurants, to doing small repairs. He became well adept at many different jobs, and he worked long and hard hours.

It almost felt like an obligation if he thought about it.

Everyone in his household, save for himself and Horror, were going to school and working part-time, their schedules so packed that Killer rarely, if ever, saw Nightmare or Dust during the school week. It was strange, to be the oldest in their group, and watch them work on careers he could never have. He almost felt jealous, but regret and guilt far overpowered that.

Sometimes, when it was late at night, and Nightmare was curled up against him, sleeping deeply and tentacles twitching as he dreamt, Killer felt _disgusted_ with himself.

He was lying to them; he was lying to _him_.

He didn’t deserve all of this, not at all.

But then, when the sun would rise and exhaustion weighed on him even as his boyfriend shuffled awake next to him, Killer would smile at him and press a kiss to still heavy eyelids.

He might have deserved to be consumed by that intense guilt and self-hatred, but Nightmare…Nightmare didn’t deserve to see him like that. Nightmare deserved only the absolute _best_ of Killer, so he wouldn’t show him anything else. Not after last time.

~

“So, hear me out.” Error was saying. Nightmare looked up from idlily stirring his coffee and across the table, to where Error was sipping on a disgustingly sweet double chocolate mocha while he spoke. “Coffee monopoly.”

Nightmare raised an eyebrow, highlighting a sentence in his textbook for review later. “Explain.”

“That’s the ultimate way to control the masses in this day and age.” Error said. “The majority of the population drinks coffee, just imagine the amount of bank you could make if you opened a coffee shop in a town that didn’t have one already.”

“Not sure that’s possible, considering Starbucks has practically invaded the country.” Nightmare mumbled.

“But hypothetically.” Error said, swirling his coffee. “I know for a fact that my brother-in-law could buy out an entire coffee shop if he really put his mind to it.”

Nightmare blinked, looking up from his notes again. “Does…does he ever sleep?”

Error shrugged and took a large swig of his drink, downing what remained easily and throwing the empty cup into a garbage can behind him. “He’s married to my older brother so probably not.”

Nightmare shook his head but opted to bring their conversation back to the original topic. “This whole situation is assuming that people can’t just buy themselves a coffee maker and make it at home.”

“C’mon Night, people are _way_ too lazy to actually make themselves coffee at six in the morning.”

“Fair.” Nightmare said, jotting down a little note in one of the margins. “Why bring this up though? You trying to open a business with your computer science degree?”

“Har, har.” Error said, rolling his eyes. “Not really, I was just thinking.”

Any continuing conversation was interrupted when Error’s phone rang. Grumbling slightly to himself, he pulled it out and stared at the screen.

“Well, speak of the devil.” Error mumbled before he answered it. The call was quick, lasting barely a minute, and Nightmare wasn’t really listening anyway. When Error stood and slid his phone back into his pocket, Nightmare looked up from his notes.

“You heading out?” Nightmare asked.

“Yeah…” Error said, slipping on a baggy patchwork jacket. “Going ring shopping with my brother-in-law.”

Nightmare almost spat out his coffee. “Ring shopping?!”

“Yeah.” Error said with a nod, immediately changing the topic. “Anyway, shoot me a text when you want me to invade your house and eat all your food.”

“Got it, I’ll buy nothing but salad for a week.”

“Fuck right off.”

Nightmare waved halfheartedly to Error as the other left and went back to his studying. About halfway through the page he was on, he stopped and checked the time. Cursing, he scrambled to put away his notes and down his coffee at the same time. He was late for class.

~

Despite being decently late to his lecture, Nightmare hadn’t really missed anything, and the three hours passed relatively quickly.

Something Nightmare hated about his later classes was that he had to walk to his car in the dark. He had never been afraid of the dark, so it wasn’t that, that alarmed him when he had to wander a good distance to get to where he parked. Rather, it was what he assumed would meet him along the way.

Today, luck just wasn’t on his side.

“Hey there.” One of the men that surrounded his car said. He knew them all, how could he not, they were in a few of his lectures and had been picking on him since high school.

“What do you want?” Nightmare said, feeling tired of the charade the other was putting on.

“Why so unfriendly?” Another one of them said, leaning back on the hood of Nightmare’s car.

“Yeah.” The first one spoke again, shortening the distance between them. Nightmare wasn’t necessarily short, but the other man seemed to loom above him. “If I were you, I’d watch how you spoke to me.”

“Fuck off, and get away from my car.” Nightmare said with an unwavering stare, mouth pressed into a firm line.

The men laughed heartily, as if Nightmare had just told the funniest joke they had ever heard.

“Sorry,” A different man spoke, leering at him. “But what _exactly_ are you gonna do if we _don’t?”_

“Yeah.” The first said, giving Nightmare a shove. “You gonna fight us, you fucking wimp?”

A familiar dread settled into Nightmare’s stomach, but his hidden tentacles curled wildly under his jacket, as if urging him to act. Nightmare grit his teeth.

“Leave me alone!” Nightmare shouted as he shoved the bully in retribution.

He hadn’t even fully processed his actions when he was sent toppling by a strong punch to his jaw. The resounding crack echoed in his head and the world spun, he tasted copper and the pain that followed was almost enough to convince him that his jaw had been broken. He hit the concrete hard and, still disoriented, didn’t have time to right himself before all of them were upon him, pinning him to the ground. Nightmare wasn’t sure how many punches he took directly to the face, or how many times his ribs were kicked to the point of shattering, all there was, was an endless stream of sharp pain.

Something in him snapped.

The dam that had been tightly holding back his emotions for years, his anger and hatred and sadness, broke with the force of a bomb blast.

His jacket tore open down the back, making room for his tentacles to slither out onto the concrete beneath him. A red haze fogged his vision, and then everything was moving too fast.

The man pinning him and punching his face was thrown off with enough force to land halfway across the parking lot. Two of the remaining four were bashed together, the sound of their colliding skulls loud enough to echo in the emptiness of the night, and they collapsed into a heap on the ground. The last two made to run, screaming fearfully. Nightmare wasn’t sure when he had stood up, but he knew he wouldn’t catch them.

As if wanting to prove him wrong, his tentacles lashed out and he watched with a strange mixture of numbness and pride as they skewered the two men right through the chest, only slipping out when their limp forms stopped twitching. Their bodies fell to the ground with wet squelches.

Nightmare only realised what happened when a stray drop of blood splattered onto his cheek from one of his retreated tentacles. He looked at the bodies and, willing himself to not scream or vomit, turned and fled, tentacles curled tightly against his back.

~

Everything hurt, he felt dizzy and nauseous as well, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to the sheer amount pain he was in or the response to his actions.

Limping, he practically threw himself into the house he shared with his brother and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with a vigour that made it seem that police were hot on his heels. Disregarding his own pain, Nightmare ran up the stairs and into his room. He closed that door behind him as well, but didn’t have the luxury of making it to his bed before his quaking knees gave out. He tumbled to his bedroom floor with a sharp cry, ribs jostling painful. He tried vainly to push himself back to his feet but soon gave up in favour of curling up on the carpet. Nightmare was well aware that he was probably staining his carpet, both with his own blood and the blood that still clung to his tentacles. They splayed out behind him, out of his sight, and yet, he could practically _feel_ the angry red liquid that seemed to suffocate them. He felt that no matter how hard he scrubbed them clean, the stains would remain, forever reminding him.

But he didn’t feel guilty.

Deep down, a small glimmer of pride and satisfaction simmered, overshadowed almost completely buy complete and utter _fear_.

And the knowledge that he didn’t hate what he had done deep down only made that fear _worse_.

“…Dream?” Nightmare called tentatively, trembling where he lay, curled up on his side, dirty and in pain.

But Dream wasn’t there.

He called and, for the first time, _nobody came_.

Fisting the soft carpet beneath him, Nightmare sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooo Nighty's been a baaaaad boy.  
> Too bad Dream is out of town oopsie >:)  
> Hope you guys liked it! Comments and kudos are always wonderful to see! <3  
> -Maggic


	9. Talk About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Blood, vomit, and open wounds  
> Again, nothing too descriptive but STILL!  
> <3

Killer didn’t know where the feeling came from, but a sudden wave of uneasiness swept over him one night. He had been texting Nightmare when the other’s class had ended, but he had yet to hear so much as a ‘good night’ from the other since then.

It was nearing midnight.

He called him once.

Twice.

Thrice.

He didn’t pick up.

Spurred on by an anxiety he couldn't explain, Killer left the apartment and drove across town to Nightmare’s house, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he did. When he pulled up, his chest clenched painfully.

Nightmare’s car wasn’t there.

_Just_ remembering to pull his keys from ignition as he parked the car, Killer scrambled out of his seat and tore across the brother’s lawn.

“Nightmare?” He called, knocking loudly on the front door and even ringing the doorbell a few times. All the lights in the house were off, and there was no response. Killer tried the handle. The door was locked. Trying desperately to think past his panic, Killer remembered the spare key that the brothers always kept hidden on top of their door frame. He reached for it, knocking it to the ground in the process, and scrambled to pick it up and open the door.

Killer shut the door behind him and took the stairs two at a time.

“Nightmare!” He said, the only warning before he burst into his boyfriend’s bedroom.

The smell and the sight hit him simultaneously with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

Nightmare lay on the floor, curled up in a puddle of vomit and a frankly terrifying amount of blood. His tentacles lay limp behind him, spread across the floor and barely twitching, splattered with crusted burgundy. Killer, for one terrifying moment, thought Nightmare might be dead, but then Nightmare blinked hazily up at him and Killer could have wept with relief if he wasn’t still so worried. Hastily, Killer crossed the room and dropped to his knees beside his boyfriend, not caring how messy his pants would get.

“Shit, Night…what happened?” Killer breathed, gently tucking back a few stray strands of Nightmare’s hair that had fallen into his face. “Can you talk to me babe?”

_WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdowha-_

“…Kill…er…” Nightmare mumbled, voice raw, and turned his head slightly to look up at him. “What…why are you here?”

From this new angle, Killer could clearly see the violent marks littering his boyfriend’s face. The swollen and bruised cheek, the angry red split in his lip, the yellow-green colouration around his right eye, the dried blood running from the nostrils of a puffy and slightly lopsided nose, the deep gash that lay across his forehead. Killer fought down the spike of rage that filled him and tried to smile comfortingly at Nightmare.

“You didn’t answer your phone.” Killer said. “I got worried.”

“Oh…” Nightmare said, eyes glazed and unfocused. “Sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Killer said softly. “…Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Nightmare blinked slowly and a bit of light returned to his eyes. Slowly, he nodded and Killer set to work, gently pulling Nightmare up from where he lay. When he winced, Killer froze.

“Night?”

“I’m fine.” Nightmare said through gritted teeth. “Just…think some of my ribs are broken.”

Killer winced as well. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Slowly, but surely, he slid Nightmare’s soiled jacket and shirt off. Any other time, seeing his boyfriend without his shirt on would have been hot, but the bruises that speckled Nightmare’s chest doused any reaction that Killer might have. Instead, the rage he felt earlier returned and sat uncomfortably in his stomach. He balled up Nightmare’s clothes and tried to meet his downcast stare.

“Do you wanna move to the bed?” Killer asked. Nightmare shook his head.

Fighting a frown, Killer tried again. “Do you want to lean against the wall then? I can clean you up easier that way.”

Killer had to ask again before Nightmare fully processed it and gave a nod. That, mixed with the dragging of his tentacles on either side of him as he scooted slowly back towards his bedroom wall, was enough to intensify Killer’s worry. As long as he had known his boyfriend had them, those tentacles had never been…still. Even on the occasion where they hung limp like this, they were always moving. Curling, twitching, something. Now though, they were lifeless. When Nightmare was propped up against the wall, and at least looked a little more aware of himself, Killer stood, pant-legs damp from the mess he had been kneeling in.

“Alright babe. I’ll be right back, okay?” Killer announced.

Taking Nightmare’s dirty clothes with him, Killer left the room and wandered a bit down the hall to the washroom. He threw them in the sink, with his pants after a second thought, and plugged the drain, turning on the hot water. When the sink was full, he turned the water off to let the clothes soak. Everything in there was black, so he wasn’t worried about the blood staining. Opening one of the cupboards, Killer fished out two equally dark face cloths and a first aid kit. He wet one of the cloths with warm water and, as an afterthought, grabbed a small steel bowl from Nightmare’s kitchen and filled it as well. Hands full, he made his way back to his boyfriend.

Nightmare hadn’t moved, which Killer supposed was a good thing given the probably broken ribs and all, and Killer settled himself between Nightmare’s slightly spread legs easily, re-wetting the cloth.

“Did anything happen to your legs?” Killer asked, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t accidentally jostle another potentially broken bone. When Nightmare shook his head, Killer set to gently wiping down his boyfriend’s chest and arms, keeping the cloth warm with repeated dunks into the bowl he had brought with him. Nightmare’s eyes flittered in and out of focus as he worked and, to distract himself, Killer started humming a little. When he was done there, he moved up to Nightmare’s face, dabbing dirt and grime out of and away from the blemishes. Killer eyed the swollen cheek and how Nightmare winced as he passed his cloth over it, making a mental note to get some ice for it later. As well as some for his ribs.

As Killer turned to the disinfectant and bandages the first aid kit provided, he tried to keep himself from asking about the elephant in the room.

He lasted until he was carefully scrubbing the dried blood from Nightmare’s tentacles.

“Nightlight…” He began, trying to catch his boyfriend’s gaze again. “Can you tell me what happened?”

For a long while, it seemed like Killer wouldn’t get a response, but then, Nightmare sighed, and the haze lifted from his eyes.

“It was just…some guys at-“ Nightmare started to say, voice breaking. “School…and they…and I…”

Barely quick enough, Nightmare’s hands covered his face just as he broke down into dry ragged sobs.

Killer, caught completely off guard but feeling his heart ache at the sound of his normally stoic and put-together lover sobbing, dropped his cloth and pulled Nightmare gently to his chest.

“Hey, hey.” Killer soothed. “You don’t have to talk about it, okay? If you don’t want to talk it’s fine.”

“I just…” Nightmare gasped. “I couldn’t…they always…I can’t it’s too much! I just…”

“Shhh…it’s okay…”

“I…I wanted them to bleed, Killer…I was…I was so scared…”

“Shhh…”

“I _wanted_ to hurt them…and when I did…”

Killer stayed ridged as he heard Nightmare’s sobs begin to even out against his shirt and fought to keep his hand steady as it rubbed gentle circles into the skin near the base of Nightmare’s tentacles. _Don’t say it_ , Killer thought frantically, _please don’t say what I think you’re going to say._ Nightmare shifted and looked up at him, blue-green eyes looking suddenly greener.

“I _liked_ it, Killer.” Nightmare said, barely a whisper. “And that scares me.”

~

Later, when they had both calmed down significantly and were properly cleaned up, Killer draped a blanket around Nightmare’s shoulders and pressed a cooled cup of tea into his hands. Then, he settled in on the bed next to him, gently holding a towel-wrapped ice pack to Nightmare’s side.

_At least the tentacles are moving again,_ Killer noted, feeling one slip around his own shoulders and back.

They sat in silence together, just enjoying each other’s presence. Nightmare took another tentative sip from his drink and Killer decided to voice his opinion.

“When do Dream and Cross get back?” Killer asked.

“Two weeks, give or take.” Nightmare said.

“…You should tell him.”

Nightmare jerked in surprise, ribs jarring painfully, and glared at Killer. “Are you crazy?!”

Killer shrugged helplessly. “Well, you won’t talk to me about it. And regardless, I think you should tell your brother.”

“I am _not_ telling Dream about _anything_ that happened tonight.” Nightmare said harshly. “And he will _never_ find out.”

“Nightmare please! If this is something that’s been recurring Dream will know how to deal with it better than I will.” Killer said.

“There’s nothing to deal with!”

“Yes, there is. These bullies have to be dealt with!”

“They have been dealt with!” Nightmare yelled, pushing himself to his feet despite all of his protesting aches. “They’re fucking _dead!_ I killed them!”

While Nightmare seemed to deflate as his brain finally caught up with reality again, Killer tensed and looked at his boyfriend with eyes full of disbelief.

“Tell…tell me you’re joking.” Killer said.

“Do I fucking look like I’m joking?!” Nightmare snapped, arms spreading and tendrils spearing outwards. All of a sudden, Killer thought his boyfriend looked even more frightening.

Even so…

When Nightmare made to flee the room, Killer stood and chased after him, grabbing him around the wrist.

_I’m in no position to judge._

“Nightlight please wait.” Killer begged. “I’m not mad at you. It was self-defence, okay? You didn’t…you didn’t mean to kill them.”

“Does that make a difference?!” Nightmare said. “Three people, potentially five, are dead because of me.”

“It was self-defence, Nightmare.” Killer said, rubbing his thumbs into the skin beneath them. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“But I don’t regret it, Killer!” Nightmare said as he yanked his arm back and folded both of them across his chest. “I’m…I don’t feel guilty! I’m just scared!”

Killer watched as Nightmare’s eyes glassed over. “Night-“

“I’ve never been in control of _anything_ in my life.” Nightmare said quietly, casting a glance over his shoulder at his writhing tentacles. “For once, just _once_ I thought I could have control over _something!_ But I’m never that lucky.”

Killer sighed, wanting to reach out to Nightmare again and hold him in any way that he could. Gently, hesitant enough that Nightmare could push him away if he wanted to, Killer cupped the sides of Nightmare’s head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“We’ll worry about all of this and the consequences when we have to.” Killer said. “For now, you need rest. Do you think you could try to sleep? For me?”

Nightmare stared at him for a long moment, face impassive but eyes glistening, before he sighed and seemed to lose all energy, leaning into Killer. When Nightmare nodded, Killer gave him a gentle smile and looped an arm around his waist, leading them both back to the bed.

Once they had settled, it didn’t take long for Nightmare to pass out, exhausted from the events of the day. As Nightmare dozed, Killer found himself frowning and his thoughts racing. In the end, he decided on one very important thing:

If Nightmare refused to tell Dream what happened, then he’d do it himself.

There were some things a brother deserved to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh boy I love when everything starts falling into place and falling apart *evilly drums fingers together*  
> Be prepared folks!  
> Foundations shall crumble, relationships shall splinter, and pain will be felt!  
> Mwahahahahahahahaha!! >:)  
> Thanks for reading guys! Comments and kudos are always lovely <3   
> -Maggic


	10. Welcome Home!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream and Cross come home.  
> No warnings for this chapter! Just some good old fluff for yall since stuff has been heavy lately XD

Dream was exhausted.

Himself and Cross had been on flights for around twenty-four hours, he hadn’t slept in that time either, and he was beyond ready to go home, take a hot shower, and pass out for the next day and a half.

But he was also bouncing on his heels in excitement.

Two months. Two months and eight days since he had seen or heard from his brother. And, although he had a wonderful time with Cross, Dream had missed Nightmare. The first week or two of his vacation had been the worst of it, but that dull ache in his heart had never really gone away for the rest of the trip. Still, he ignored it and enjoyed the time away with his boyfriend.

And now he was home.

**_Night:_ ** _did your flight come in yet?_

Dream smiled down at his phone as he continued to wait for his luggage with Cross.

**_Dream:_ ** _just waiting on bags_ _😉_

**_Dream:_ ** _we’ll be out in a bit, hold your horses_

**_Night:_ ** _yeah yeah_

Pocketing his phone to go help with the suitcases that had just come around, Dream gave a breathy chuckle and Cross glanced at him.

“What’s so funny?” Cross asked.

“Nightmare.” Dream replied, tugging his stuffed suitcase off of the conveyor belt with only a soft grunt. Once it was settled on the ground, he pulled up the handle so he could drag it behind him as he walked. 

“Is he here to pick us up?” Cross said, following Dream away from the conveyor and back through the airport.

Dream nodded. “Yep. He asked if our plane landed yet.”

“Again?” Cross said with a little laugh. “That’s, what, four times now?”

“Aw, come on!” Dream laughed. “It’s sweet!”

“Hmm.” Cross agreed. “You’re excited too, then?”

“Of course!” Dream said. “Don’t get me wrong, I _loved_ going on this trip with you. I just missed him.”

“Understandable. You two are always joined at the hip.”

“Not _always_. Just most of the time.”

They made it through security fairly quickly, but it seemed to drag on for Dream, anticipation stirring low in his gut. _It’s strange,_ he thought, _I haven’t even been away for very long, but I really can’t wait to see him again_. Then again, they had never been apart for this long before.

Walking down a seemingly endless hallway with Cross in tow, Dream pulled out his phone again.

**_Dream:_ ** _are you in the main area?_

**_Night:_ ** _yeah, I’m by that coffee shop on the far end of the food court_

**_Dream:_ ** _k, be there in a bit!_

He tried to keep an even pace in his stride, but judging by how Cross was snickering at him, he was practically speed walking. Dream shot his boyfriend a pout at the teasing. Soon enough, the hallway ended, and they wound up in the entrance area of the airport. Dream’s gaze darted around as he weaved between and around people to make his way to the food court.

When he spotted the coffee shop, and more importantly the dark figure of his brother leaning against the wall outside of it, his heart leapt in his chest and he sped up. By the time Nightmare had looked up from his phone to glance around, Dream was almost running, a wide grin tugging at his lips as he watched his brother’s eyes light up. Letting go of his suitcase a few feet in advance, Dream threw his arms around Nightmare and hugged him tightly, the knot in his chest that had been present since his vacation began gradually unwinding as Nightmare returned the hug. He was aware that they were probably making a little bit of a scene, and that he had left Cross behind in his hurry, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care all that much. With Nightmare, everything felt familiar, felt stable, like the world wasn’t so uncertain and ever changing. It was strange, but that’s how it always was. The only other person Dream had ever felt that kind of stability with was Cross, and he was probably the reason Dream had been able to go on that amazing trip in the first place. Still relishing in a presence he hadn’t felt in far too long, Dream only snapped out of his trace when Nightmare spoke.

“Jeez, you got one hell of a tan.”

Dream laughed, feeling a little fuzzy headed. Whether that was from the lack of sleep or the rush of endorphins, he wasn’t sure. “Well, yeah, that’s what happens when you actually go out into the sun.” Dream teased.

“I go out.” Nightmare grumbled. “Just kind of hard to get a tan when you have to wear a jacket everywhere.”

“Mhm.” Dream said, squeezing his brother tighter. “I missed you so much.”

Nightmare gave a breathy little laugh, wincing slightly at Dream’s tight hold but not quite willing to push him away yet. “What? Cross not good enough for you?” Confused at not yet seeing his brother’s boyfriend, Nightmare glanced around. “Uhm…speaking of, where is Cross?”

Dream let him go and looked around, realising he had left the other behind in his hurry. Spotting Cross some distance away in the crowd, Dream waved and smiled sheepishly. Cross sent him an equally bemused and annoyed look that was unfairly attractive, and Dream sighed.

“Well, at least I didn’t completely lose him.” Dream said, turning back to Nightmare.

Nightmare raised a hand and waved at Cross as the other grew closer. “It’s not that hard to find your way here. I would have been kind of impressed if you _had_ lost him.”

“My thoughts were a little preoccupied.” Dream said, growing embarrassed.

“The trip was good though?” Nightmare asked, casually throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders and resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Dream, smiling at the contact, nodded and copied Nightmare’s motion. “Of course! It was beautiful there. I took lots of photos too, I think Cross was getting annoyed at how many I was taking actually.”

“The amount of times we had to change a memory card was kind of scary, Dream.” Cross said, close enough to hear their conversation. He had grabbed Dream’s own luggage, that the other had carelessly left behind, on his way over to them and was pulling both suitcases behind him. When he wandered up next to the twins, he rolled the luggage to a stop and let them go, giving Nightmare a half hug in greeting.

“Yeah, well,” Dream began with a pout, “it’s not everyday that you get to see a sunrise in Rome, okay?”

“True.” Cross relented. “But ten pictures of the same view is kind of overkill.”

Dream stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend, while Nightmare turned to Cross.

“Are you gonna crash at our place tonight?” Nightmare asked.

“Probably.” Cross said. “I’ll head back to my own place tomorrow though, since I work tomorrow night.”

“Back to work that quick?” Nightmare said.

Cross shrugged. “Gotta pay for my souvenirs somehow.”

They made pleasant conversation as they wandered back to Nightmare’s car, and Dream could admit that if he hadn’t been filling in his twin on some of the incredible things he and Cross had gotten up to on vacation he would have easily fallen asleep in the passenger seat.

~

When they had all arrived at the brother’s house and the car had been unloaded, Cross was the first to claim the shower, while Dream unpacked his suitcase and Nightmare sat on his bed scrolling through the pictures on Dream’s camera, tendrils waving lazily behind him. Pulling out a stack of shirts, Dream uncovered a small brown package. Suddenly remembering what exactly it was and _who_ exactly it was for, Dream pulled it out of his bag and stood up. Plopping down onto the bed next to Nightmare, Dream dropped the package into the other’s lap. Nightmare stared at it for a moment, eyebrow raised, before he put the camera down and turned to Dream.

“What’s this?” Nightmare asked.

Dream smiled. “Just a little something I thought you’d like.”

“You didn’t have to bring be back anything.” Nightmare said, softening as his fingers skimmed the wrapped edges of the package, searching for a way to open it.

“Well, I wanted to so…”

Finding a spot in the paper that allowed him to open it, Nightmare tore into the package, promptly freezing when he saw what lay inside. He stared at the book for a solid minute before looking up at Dream with an incredulous expression.

“Wha-how did?” Nightmare sputtered. Dream raised a finger to his lips.

“You said you always wanted to read the sequel.” Dream said. “However unofficial it was.”

Nightmare’s gaze jumped between the book in his grasp and Dream before it finally settled on his brother, and he dropped the book in favour of pulling said brother into a hug.

“Who are you,” Nightmare began, fighting a flinch as his tentacles copied the motion of his arms. “And what have you done with my law-abiding brother?”

Dream laughed. “Hush, hush, right?”

Nightmare pulled back and made the universal ‘my lips are sealed’ sign. Gift out of the way, Dream got up and went back to unpacking his bag, laughing fondly when he raised his head a few minutes later and found his brother buried in the book.

~

Dream slept through most of the next day, which he was expecting. He _also_ slept through Cross leaving to head back home, which he was not the most pleased about, but at least his boyfriend sent him a sweet text later that day. It _also_ wasn’t surprising that he wandered out into his living room at close to 3 pm and saw Nightmare _still_ immersed in the book he had brought him yesterday, this time only a few pages from the end. Dream smiled.

“So, I’m guessing you didn’t sleep last night?” Dream said.

“Hm.”

Rolling his eyes at the noncommittal noise of acknowledgement, Dream wandered over to stand behind Nightmare’s lounging figure, resting his chin on the crown of the other’s head. Overall unbothered, Nightmare flipped the page and kept reading. Dream eyed the rectangular framed glasses that rested on Nightmare’s nose and the heavy bags under his eyes and answered his own question.

_At least he remembered to take his contacts out this time._ Dream thought to himself, winding his arms around Nightmare’s shoulders and smiling down at the golden tabby curled up on his brother’s legs. Nightmare’s tentacles wormed up and around his upper arms, acknowledging him even as their owner remained stuck in a world of words on pages. Dream chuckled and closed his eyes, fighting the sleep that wanted to overtake him again. A minute or two later, he heard the book close and Nightmare sigh.

“What time is it?” Nightmare asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

Dream glanced at the clock. “Around three in the afternoon.”

Nightmare let out a groan and slunk back slightly against Dream, placing his glasses back on before dropping that hand to scratch Sunshine gently behind the ears, his cat purring wildly in response. A moment of peaceful silence passed before Nightmare’s phone buzzed from its place on the coffee table. Nightmare grabbed it and opened up his messages without bothering to check who it was.

**_Kils_** : _hey babe <3_

**_Kils:_** _whatcha up to?_

**_Night:_ ** _nothing much. Dream and Cross got back yesterday._

**_Kils:_ ** _yeah?_

**_Kils:_ ** _you guys just hanging out today?_

**_Kils:_ ** _don’t wanna crash the bro time before coming over_

Nightmare rolled his eyes.

**_Night:_ ** _considering he just crawled out of bed, there’s not much ‘bro time’ you could have crashed_

**_Kils:_ ** _damn, I should’ve come over earlier_

**_Night:_ ** _I was reading so I wouldn’t have given you attention anyway_

**_Kils:_ ** _;_;_

**_Night:_ ** _we’re not doing anything tho, so you can come over if you want_

**_Kils:_ ** _:D_

**_Kils:_ ** _kk bby, I’ll be over in a bit <3_

Nightmare closed his phone and turned his attention to Dream, who seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep on his head.

“Killer said he was coming to visit soon.” Nightmare said.

“Mmm…okay.” Dream slurred, disconnecting himself from his brother and wandering back to his bedroom. “I guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“You do that.” Nightmare said as he rubbed at his eyes again. He hadn’t slept at all last night, too emerged in his new reading. To be fair, he hadn’t really been sleeping well for the last week or so, but it was fine. It would pass, it always did. For now…

His phone buzzed again.

**_Kils:_ ** _then we can cuddle and make Dream jealous since his bf is at work >;)_

Things seemed to be normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True love is bringing your sibling a book banned in your country from another country when you go on vacation XD  
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As always, comments and kudos are always appreciated and lovely to see! <3  
> -Maggic


	11. Trouble In Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a conversation should really be had, but it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at hits count* *spews out coffee*  
> WHAT?  
> YOU GUYS ARE CRAZY, 1000 HITS ALREADY?! WE'RE ONLY ON CHAPTER 11!  
> Seriously I CANNOT thank yall enough for the amount of support this has gotten in such a short period of time! It's honestly incredible, and it just makes me want to work even harder to keep throwing out new chapters for you guys!  
> Thank you thank you thank you <3 <3 <3  
> -Maggic

Killer was self-aware enough to know that he had fallen in love with Nightmare the second the other had walked into his life, the second that Cross had dragged Nightmare through the doors of their apartment for game night and the second those turquoise eyes had landed on him.

Dust and Horror called him pathetic for being smitten so quickly, but it wasn’t like he had much control over it. Nightmare was just his type: dark hair and blue eyes, a little shorter than him, with a velvet smooth voice and a brooding personality. He also did the ‘bossing people around’ thing very well, but Killer didn’t want to get too into _that._

Killer had met Nightmare’s twin brother long before the two of them had started dating, as Cross had snatched the lighter haired brother for himself. Dream was nice, almost to the extent where Killer was _sure_ Dream had to be faking it, but Nightmare later informed him that that wasn’t the case and, yes, his brother was just that nice. Nightmare had seemed…bitter about it when he informed him. ‘Dream is the nice one.’ Killer recalled Nightmare saying. ‘I’m not.’. Killer didn’t believe those words to be completely true, but he chose not to say anything about it at the time. He knew too well that feelings of inferiority didn’t just disappear after hearing one contradicting statement.

There was just something about Nightmare that his brother didn’t have. For all the radiance that Dream exuded, Nightmare had a presence entirely his own, something that drew Killer’s attention whenever the other walked in the room. The almost commanding posture, the impassive expression resting on his face, the intelligent and calculating glimmer in his eyes, was something Dream didn’t have. Both brothers were attractive, Killer could admit that, but while Dream’s beauty was startling and obvious, Nightmare’s was subtle and serine.

The point was, Killer was smitten by Nightmare and, although he liked Dream, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

But sometimes Nightmare really got on his nerves.

Like right now.

They were relaxing in the living room of the apartment together, Nightmare lounging across the couch with a book in hand while Killer sat in the corner of the same couch scrolling through his phone. Periodically, Killer looked up to see if he could catch his boyfriend’s eyes, but Nightmare never once looked up from his reading, face and posture relaxed as his pupils darted over the page. Growing tired of the silence, Killer put his phone down and crawled on top of Nightmare, worming his head between Nightmare’s face and the pages of the book. Nightmare’s response was simply to raise the book and rest it on the crown of Killer’s head, eyes not once leaving the page. Although Killer admitted it was nice to curl up on his boyfriend’s chest, that wasn’t the reason he had come over.

“Night…” Killer started. “When are we gonna talk about what happened?”

“Hm.” Nightmare sounded, turning a page in his book.

Killer frowned, annoyance growing, and lifted a hand to yank the book from Nightmare’s grasp, keeping a finger on the page so Nightmare wouldn’t get exceptionally pissed with him. Sitting up, he placed the book, pages down, on the coffee table and turned his frustrated expression onto Nightmare.

“Can you listen to me, damn it?” Killer said.

Glaring the barest bit, Nightmare frowned. “What is it?”

“When are we gonna talk about what happened?” Killer repeated, trying to not fall victim to how cute his boyfriend looked when he pouted.

“We already talked about it.” Nightmare said. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

“Night, you haven’t been going to school.” Killer said, concern laced in every syllable.

“I went to school.”

“For a week after the incident. You haven’t been going since then.”

“So?” Nightmare said, looking everywhere but at Killer.

“So…” Killer said. “It’s not like you. You’re a workaholic, Night. Not doing anything isn’t like you.”

“Killer I’m _fine_.” Nightmare said. “I’m just not enjoying my classes anymore.”

“Bullshit, you love your classes.”

“Not anymore.”

Killer heaved a sigh, feeling heavier than he had before tried to converse with Nightmare. He slumped forward, arms braced on either side of Nightmare’s head, and felt his gaze soften.

“Babe, please be honest with me.” Killer pleaded. “I know it’s hard to talk about this, but I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Nightmare said, reaching up to smooth a thumb over Killer’s cheek. “I’ll be fine, I always am.”

“But you’re not _right now_.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Nightmare said. “I will be.”

“Night-“

“Can we not talk about this anymore?” Nightmare snapped, reaching for his book only to have his hand snatched away by Killer. “Killer I’m done talking about this.”

“Night, this way of coping isn’t healthy!” Killer tried to explain. “You’ve gotta talk to _someone_ about this!”

“Yeah and get locked up for manslaughter?” Nightmare said through a humourless laugh. “Funny.”

“Your brother won’t-“

“Oh, so _that’s_ what this is about!?” Nightmare cried, sitting up and causing Killer to topple backwards off of him.

“Night, please-“

“We’ve been over this a thousand times, Killer!” Nightmare said. “I. Am. Not. Telling. Dream!”

Killer tried to hide the fear steadily mounting in him at the sight of his boyfriend’s icy stare and the threatening waving of his tendrils, but he felt his hands beginning to shake.

“Why not?” Killer asked, fighting to keep his voice even.

“Are you seriously fucking asking me that question?!”

“He knows you better than anyone else, Night!”

“So, how do you think _he’d_ feel,” Nightmare began, hands flailing wildly, “if he learned his brother was a _murderer_?!”

“It was self-defence! If you explain that-“

“It doesn’t change shit!” Nightmare shouted before he quieted, entire body shaking with barely controlled anger. “I killed someone, that’s on me. It _doesn’t_ have to be on him.”

“You seriously don’t think he could help you?” Killer said.

“I’m done talking about this, Killer.” Nightmare said, voice dangerously low. “Leave me alone.”

“Night-“

“Leave. Me. _Alone_.”

“Would you-“

“Leave!” Nightmare roared as he pushed himself to his feet, tentacles looking eerily sharp as they curved forward around him. “Get out of here, Killer! Before I do something I regret!”

Left with no other option and guilt and fear stewing in his gut, Killer grabbed his keys and left the apartment.

~

Dream’s cooking was disturbed when there came three quick knocks on his front door. Puzzled, he quickly washed his hands and wiped them off on his jeans as he ran down the stairs to the front door. When it swung open to reveal Killer, Dream was even more confused.

“Hey, Killer…?” Dream said, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something you need?”

“…Can I come in?” Killer said in a voice that was disturbingly serious. Dream blinked, and stepped out of the way to let Killer inside.

“Of course.” Dream said as he closed the door behind him. “…What’s going on?”

Killer seemed to deflate as he turned his large dark eyes onto Dream, guilt shining wetly in his eyes.

“There’s…something I think you should know.”

_I’m sorry Nightlight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, a little side note for yall:  
> I decided to make a tumblr, even tho it's dying, just as a way for me to connect with you guys outside of the comment section lmao XD  
> I might post little drabbles on there and maybe take some writing requests?  
> Anyway, if you guys are interested my username is maggicsorceress  
> Thanks for reading guys!  
> -Maggic


	12. I Love You, Don't Forget That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooooly fuck you guys I am sooooo sorry it took me so long to update! I went back to work recently and my job has been working me to the bone (pun intended), so sorry about the wait!  
> I don't really have any warnings in store for this chapter, tho it isssss kinda suggestive at the beginning so, fair warning if that's not your cup of tea :3

Nightmare sighed, running a hand gently down the sides of his bare chest. The mirror in front of him showed him the expanse of dark purple bruising that speckled his skin across his rib cage. Though the pain had faded over the weeks, the sight of them was still painful, still a reminder of where and when he had achieved such marks, and he found that he could only bear the sight for so long. He was reaching over to his dresser to grab a shirt when thin freckled arms circled around his stomach and his back was pulled flush against an equally freckled chest.

“Admiring yourself?” Killer teased, breath hot against Nightmare’s neck.

Nightmare snorted. “Yeah, these bruises are sure a work of art.”

“The bruises aren’t…” Killer said, hand moving to trace the pattern Nightmare’s own had been following along his sides and lower ribs, feather-light and almost ticklish. “But the canvas sure is.”

“You’re funny.” Nightmare said as a smile creeped up his face.

“And you’re beautiful.”

Sighing again, Nightmare leaned back against Killer, feeling the arms around him tighten as he reached down and twined their fingers together. Killer let out a pleased hum as Nightmare’s tendrils looped around him, holding him in place, and pressed a kiss to the bare shoulder he was resting his chin on. Killer, in his still half-asleep state, was content to stay like that, the warmth from his boyfriend’s body encouraging his eyes to slip shut and his head to find its way into the crook of Nightmare’s neck. Nuzzling his nose into the pale skin, the heat radiating from the other’s neck spreading to warm his own cheeks, he spared a moment to press a kiss there as well, grinning into Nightmare’s neck when the other shuddered and tilted his head away from him. Killer continued to kiss him, relishing in the rare moment to do so, and felt a swell of heat and pride shoot through him when Nightmare let out a loud breathy sound as he latched onto a spot just below the other’s jaw. He paid special attention to that spot for a moment longer, enjoying the feeling of Nightmare going slack in his arms and the occasional twitching of the tentacles wound around his back, before he continued his trail upward until he reached his boyfriend’s ear, dragging his teeth along the shell of it as Nightmare shivered.

“When is Error coming over again?” Killer asked, voice barely a whisper as his breath danced across Nightmare’s skin.

“Not…” Nightmare breathed, his grip on Killer’s hand tightening. “Not until the afternoon…”

Killer kissed Nightmare’s temple before resting his chin on the crown of Nightmare’s head. “Good. We still have time to go get lunch then.”

When Killer began easing out of the embrace, Nightmare snapped out of whatever trance he had been tentatively lulled into and whirled around, tentacles flared and curling in wide loops. “What?!”

“What?” Killer asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you not want-“

Killer gasped as he was pushed off balance, effectively cutting off the rest of his sentence, as he fell back onto his bed, the mattress below him bouncing briefly under his weight. Blinking owlishly, Killer found himself staring up into violet eyes as Nightmare crawled onto the bed over top of him, bracing himself on hands and knees as their noses barely brushed.

“What I _want…_ ” Nightmare said, cheeks turning red as his gaze darted off somewhere to the right. “Is for you to keep kissing me.”

“… _Just_ kissing you?” Killer teased with a smirk; eyes half-lidded as he placed his hands on Nightmare’s hips.

“Shut up!” Nightmare said, flustering further and hiding his face in Killer’s shoulder, tentacles waving and twitching about, unsure of what to do with themselves. “I don’t care, just…”

_Stay with me right now._

Killer’s smile softened and, in a quick yet delicate movement, flipped their positions and pressed Nightmare down into the mattress with a firm kiss to his lips. When he, a bit reluctantly, broke the kiss, Killer leaned down until his head was against the mattress next to Nightmare’s own head and spoke softly.

“Whatever you want, babe~.”

~

“ _Someone_ had a good morning.” Error jabbed, wincing when his character was promptly shot in the head by Nightmare’s own on the TV.

“What are you talking about?” Nightmare said.

“Word of advice,” Error began, squinting at the screen as his character re-spawned, “you should wear a scarf if you got someone sucking on your jaw.”

Nightmare choked as a wave of heat swept over his face. In the kitchen, he could hear the muffled sounds of Killer trying to hide his laughter.

“ _Shut up_ you fucking weirdo!” Nightmare said, tugging his turtleneck higher up as his hidden tendrils curled tighter against his back.

“Just thought I’d say something in case you planned on going out today.” Error said. “Better me than that old Catholic lady down the hall.”

Nightmare shot down Error’s character in retribution, grinning when the other groaned loudly.

“You are literal shit at video games.” Nightmare said.

“Give me a break.” Error complained. “First of all, I left my fucking glasses in the car and I really _don’t_ want to leave your air-conditioned apartment to go grab them, and second of all, I never played them growing up.”

“What?!” Killer cried, entering the living room balancing three cans of soda in his hands. “What do you _mean_ you never played them growing up?!”

Error rolled his eyes. “I mean I _never played them growing up._ ”

“No video-games?” Nightmare said, raising an eyebrow. “None?”

“Nope.” Error said with a sigh as his character was gunned down again.

“But you’ve played them before.” Killer clarified.

“A few times.” Error said. “My boyf-…fiancé likes to play a few.”

“Oh, that’s goo-wait.” Killer cut himself off and looked to Error with wide eyes. “You’re getting married?!”

“He said yes?!” Nightmare added, just as incredulous.

Error flipped him off. “Fuck you, Night.”

“Polite pass, you’re engaged.”

“ _Yes_ , Killer.” Error said, exasperated. “I _am_ getting married. But probably not for close to two years, so I can finish my degree and get a _real_ job.”

“Can I see the ring?!” Killer asked, bouncing in his seat as he leaned closer to Error. “Can I? Pleeeease?”

Huffing a little, with a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones, Error extended his left arm and spread his fingers, showing off the elegant gold and sapphire ring that sat proudly on his ring finger. Killer whistled and Nightmare chuckled.

“Pretty conceited of you to get yourself a fancy-ass engagement ring.” Nightmare teased.

“Funny story.” Error said with a bit of a laugh. “I didn’t get this for myself. We actually both proposed at the same time.”

If Killer was a cartoon character, Nightmare was pretty sure he would have had heart eyes at the moment.

“Awww…” Killer cooed. “That’s so sweet and romantic…”

Error shrugged and raised a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “I guess so.”

“So,” Killer continued, eyes darting from Error to Nightmare and back, “how long were you two dating before you asked?”

“Just over three years now.” Error said, turning his focus back to the game and grinning triumphantly when he managed to land several hits on Nightmare’s character. As the two of them returned to their game, Killer’s thoughts wandered.

_Three years, huh?_ Killer thought, glancing at Nightmare from the corner of his eyes.

~

Something Nightmare never expected to feel around his twin was apprehensive. He missed Dream, he did, in some deep part of his heart, and he had long since grown to look forward to the weekends he’d spend back home with him, away from the chaos of his house mates. Now, however, for some odd reason he couldn’t quite explain, something that felt eerily similar to guilt, Nightmare wasn’t sure he wanted to go home. He made a promise though, and he intended to keep it, if only because he loved his brother.

Dream being happy to see him after two or so weeks spent apart wasn’t entirely odd. That being said, being dragged into a hug that lasted too long for it to even be considered that anymore not even an hour into coming back home _was_ a little strange. Dream had always been affectionate, that Nightmare knew. It was more obvious back when they were children, with Dream hardly ever letting go of his hand or arm or just him in general, but Dream was _still_ a very physically affectionate person. Nightmare had no complaints, he _had_ gotten used to it in the over two decades he’d spent with the other, and, if he was being honest, he didn’t really dislike it either. It was reassuring, in some way. As if every time Dream pulled him into a quick hug or reached over and squeezed his hand he was reminding Nightmare of something important.

_I love you, don’t forget that._

“Alright, what’s got you in such a cuddly mood?” Nightmare finally asked, a little amused. The couch cushions behind him were comfortable, and Dream was warm and familiar, so Nightmare had little motivation to break the embrace. “Cross been busy lately?”

“Mhm.” Dream hummed into his shoulder, arms tightening the slightest bit around him before they loosened again. When Dream didn’t say anything more, Nightmare shifted, amusement shifting quickly to concern.

“Hey…” Nightmare said. “Are you okay?”

Dream was silent for a moment and then he sighed, shaking his head against his brother’s shoulder. “I’m alright…just…”

“’Just’?” Nightmare inquired.

Dream shifted and Nightmare’s gaze locked with eyes the colour of a cloudless summer sky. Dream’s stare was firm, unwavering, yet tender and full of understanding.

“You…you know you can talk to me, right?” Dream said, voice scarcely louder than a whisper. “That you can tell me anything and I won’t…hate you for it?”

Blinking the surprise off of his face, Nightmare nodded. “Yeah, I know…”

“…okay…” Dream mumbled, pressing his face back into Nightmare’s shoulder. “Just…making sure.”

They were silent for a long moment, Nightmare’s thoughts racing a mile a minute before Dream spoke up.

“Love you.”

Nightmare sighed. “Love you too.”

The timing of Dream’s question was strange, what with everything that had happened in the last month, and Nightmare couldn’t help but wonder. It wasn’t weird for Dream to remind him of these things, but it was usually only when Dream _knew_ something and wanted Nightmare to admit it himself so that he wouldn’t have to resort to prying it tooth-and-nail from the other. However, that point was a useless argument considering Dream didn’t know what had happened and he had no way of finding out what happened. Unless…

Teal eyes widened and grew ever darker, the pleased curling of the tentacles above his head stopping as they went ridged. Nightmare tried to breathe, but his chest suddenly felt too tight, mind narrowing in on one simple thought:

_Killer told Dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! I hope you liked it!  
> Comments and kudos are always lovely to see! <3  
> -Maggic


	13. Confrontation

Nightmare didn’t like to assume things. After all, assumptions were often the things that led to the sheer amount of bullying he had experienced throughout his school life, so he had grown to hate it. Not to mention his mother had taught him and his brother well.

_Don’t assume that you know the way something panned out if you don’t hear both sides of the story first._

So, because he loved his mother, and his boyfriend, he was going to give Killer a chance.

_One_ chance.

They were cleaning up after dinner one night in the apartment when Nightmare decided to confront him. He didn’t want to let the feelings he was having fester any longer than they had been, nothing good ever came from him doing that in the past, so, enough was enough. He had to know the truth.

“Hey, Killer?” Nightmare began, two of his tendrils drying a plate as he finished washing a pan in the sink.

“Yeah, babe?” Killer responded from where he was putting the dried dishes away.

Nightmare took a breath and decided not to beat around the bush. “Did you tell Dream what happened while he was on vacation?”

Killer went silent and froze and, well, that was all the answer Nightmare really needed. Still, he was going to give his boyfriend a chance to explain himself, a chance for him to validate the reason behind his actions.

_One chance, Kils._

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to tell him.” Killer said, resuming the chore he had momentarily paused.

“I did say that.” Nightmare said.

_One._

_Chance._

“Yeah, so, why would I tell him if you told me not to?”

Nightmare stilled completely, all movements in both his tentacles and the rest of his body stopping as he processed Killer’s words. If he were anyone else, he would have believed his boyfriend’s words, but Nightmare _knew_ his brother, he _knew_ that there was something Dream knew about but was hesitant to talk to him about, and he was _certain_ that Killer wasn’t telling him the truth. Still, there was one variant in the equation that he had yet to discover, so he smothered down on the anger and sadness welling up in him and went back to washing the dishes.

“Alright.”

~

Nightmare hated admitting that he was scared of anything. It made him feel weak, and an easy target, and he didn’t want to be known as such anymore, not after everything that had happened. That being said, as his mind raced from scenario to scenario of how to bring up a topic such as this to _Dream_ , Nightmare could privately admit that he was _terrified_. Not just of the more sour-turning scenarios, but of all the ones where Dream _knew_ what had happened, all the ones where Killer had told him.

All the ones where Killer _lied_ to him.

“Dream?” Nightmare finally said, hesitant to disturb the comfortable silence that had fallen over them as they relaxed on their living room couch.

“Hm?” Dream acknowledged, not looking up from his phone.

It was here that Nightmare faltered, tongue glued to the top of his mouth as he fumbled around for a way to confront Dream about Killer going behind his back and telling him without giving too much away, in the rare case where Killer had been telling the truth and Dream _didn’t_ know anything. “Did…” He wished he could simply look at his brother, that that would be enough for Dream to understand what he was trying to articulate, and that he wouldn’t have to outright say anything that was racing around in his mind. Nightmare must have been taking too long, cause Dream’s focus shifted from the phone in his hands to his twin the moment he realised that Nightmare wouldn’t be continuing on with what he had been saying. Dream placed his phone down on the coffee table and turned to face Nightmare.

“Night?” Dream said as he raised a concerned eyebrow. When Nightmare’s eyes met his own, Dream could see the torment within them, the shimmering of tears that refused to fall and the hardening of his irises even as they appeared to almost tremble, and that alone made it a simple decision for Dream to reach out a hand and intertwine it with his brother’s.

“Hey.” Dream said, so soft it bordered on a whisper. “You can talk to me. You don’t have to be scared.”

When Nightmare only took a shaky breath in response, shaking his head as his entire body trembled, Dream pressed closer, free arm snaking around Nightmare’s shoulders.

“Breathe, Nighty.” Dream encouraged. “You’ll be okay.”

“Did…” Nightmare began again, trying to speak around the rapid beating of his heart. “Did Killer ever…come over here to…talk to you?”

Dream’s expression tensed, but his eyes remained soft. “About what?”

“About…” Nightmare swallowed, feeling bile rise in his throat at the thought of talking about what he had, almost two months ago, done. “Something that happened while you and Cross were gone?”

Dream was quiet, and when Nightmare risked looking at his brother again, Dream’s eyes were glassed over, and sympathy was pouring from him like a tidal wave. When he noticed that Nightmare was looking at him again, Dream gave a small nod, grip on Nightmare tightening when he heard his brother’s sharp inhale.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not angry with you!” Dream soothed, pressing his forehead to Nightmare’s temple. “I don’t hate you, okay? You didn’t mean for things to turn out the way they did.”

“He told you.” Nightmare breathed, ridged in Dream’s embrace. “He told you, and I told him not to. He lied to me.”

“You…weren’t going to tell me…?” Dream said as he pulled back to stare at Nightmare, eyebrows furrowed.

“This isn’t…this isn’t something you should have on your shoulders!” Nightmare exclaimed, voice breaking. “You already shoulder enough for me, you already worry enough for me, I didn’t want you to worry more.”

Dream’s expression softened again. “You don’t _ever_ have to feel bad for me worrying about you, Night. I do it anyway.”

“But I _don’t want you to!_ There’s so many other things you should be worrying about, like yourself for instance, and I can’t even let you do that!” Nightmare curled in on himself as he spoke, hiding his face in his hands, tentacles curling tightly around him as if they meant to hide him. “I’m such a fucking _mess_!”

“I know you don’t want me to.” Dream said, frowning deeper as a knot formed in his throat. “And _yes,_ you’re a mess, by you’re _my_ brother! You’re _my_ mess, and there is _nothing_ you could _ever_ do that could make me hate you! I could _never_ , no matter how much you make me worry or how angry I get with you sometimes.”

Dream blinked the blurriness from his eyes and was only slightly surprised when it ran down his cheeks in warm wet tracks. Nightmare curled up tighter, hidden face slotted between his knees. In that moment, Dream wanted to do nothing more than hold his brother and wish he could take back the last two months, wish he could have been there to deal with the aftermath of…everything.

But now, all he could do was sit, hold, and remain steadfast in the hopes that Nightmare would talk to him when he was ready.

~

Nightmare’s week with Dream had been exhausting, emotionally, that is. It was never easy for him to spill his guts to someone, even if that someone was Dream, whom he trusted with his entire being, so he returned to his shared apartment feeling more drained than when he left it.

And with something new weighing on his mind.

“You told Dream.” Nightmare said coldly, confronting Killer when the two of them were alone in the apartment one afternoon. Killer froze like a deer caught in headlights, dark eyes widening, before he tore his gaze away and seemed to become almost smaller in Nightmare’s eyes.

“…I did.” Killer admitted.

“You lied to me.”

“It got you two to talk, didn’t it?” Killer attempted to justify, but something in his posture revealed to Nightmare just how aware Killer was of his fuck-up.

“That’s not the point.” Nightmare bit. “We would have talked eventually; this was not something you had to get involved with.”

“Night-“

“And you lied.” Nightmare continued. “You told me, to my face, that you wouldn’t have told him since I asked you not to.”

“I was worried about you!” Killer said, voice raising only slightly as the desperation to explain himself mounted. “You weren’t dealing with all of this in a good way, Night!”

“That’s not the point.” Nightmare said. “…I thought we agreed that we had to be honest with each other in this relationship?”

Killer nodded meekly. “We did.”

Nightmare nodded, jaw clenching as he steeled himself. “I don’t…trust easy, Killer. You know this.”

“I do.”

“You broke that trust.” Nightmare said. “The trust I had in you.”

“…I’m sorry.” Killer mumbled, looking so despaired that Nightmare felt his heart clench. “I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“I accept your apology.” Nightmare said as he took a breath. “But, the crux of the matter is that I don’t trust you anymore Killer, so…” He willed himself to swallow down the burning feeling in his throat. “We’re done.”

Killer felt his heart drop to his stomach. “What?”

“I’m breaking up with you.” Nightmare said, impassive as ever. “We’re done, and…” Killer watched as Nightmare pulled a key from his pocket and a neatly sealed envelope and placed them on the kitchen table, rooted in place. “Here’s enough money to cover rent for the next four months. I’m moving out.”

Then, Nightmare turned and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on and over the strangely ridged tentacles that emerged from the middle of his back. He took a few steps towards the front door of the apartment before glancing back at Killer over his shoulder.

_“Alone.”_ Nightmare finished.

All Killer could do was watch as the best thing that ever happened to him shut the door of the apartment and walked out of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn idk WHY this one took so long for my brain to wrangle together but it DID and I'm SO SORRY! It's really not quite up to my standards, aka I have no idea how to write a breakup scene without throwing in melodrama, but both of these exchanges were ones that had to happen so...  
> Regardless of the wait and everything else, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are always lovely! <3  
> -Maggic


	14. Not Thinking About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this??? Two chapters within a week????  
> Looks like I've finally yeeted myself out of writers block  
> Here's a slightly longer chapter for you guys to celebrate!!

“Night, are you really sure about this?” Dream was asking as he helped his brother load a couple of boxes into the back of his car. “I understand why you’re moving out of here, don’t get me wrong, but…living on your own?”

“What? You think I can’t handle it?” Nightmare said.

“It’s not that.” Dream replied, resting a hand on the frame of Nightmare’s car. “You haven’t lived on your own before, and I’m sorry if I’m worried about how that might effect you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Dream stared at his twin for a long moment, worrying his lip between his teeth, before he took a chance and spoke again.

“You’re isolating yourself.” Dream said. “Don’t think I don’t know that’s what you’re doing.”

Nightmare grew silent, looking everywhere but at Dream, and Dream heaved a heavy sigh that moved his entire body. Wandering around to the other side of the car where Nightmare currently stood, Dream leaned back against the car, folding his arms over his chest.

“I know it’s been hard for you lately.” Dream said, soft. “And I know leaving all this behind is hard for you too. You really loved him, and he really hurt you, and I’m sorry that I even listened to him back then, but…you’re rushing things, Nighty.”

“I have to.” Nightmare said, finding interest in the pavement beneath his shoes.

“No, you don’t.” Dream said. “You’re rushing through all this so you _don’t_ have time to think about anything else. You’re not letting yourself process, Night, and you’re gonna crash and burn if you keep this up. You know that.”

“I don’t want to think about this, Dream. I’d rather just…forget this ever happened and start over. It’s easier like that. It hurts less.”

Dream, feeling that familiar weight that entered his chest whenever his brother was hurting, straightened up from where he was leaning and reached an arm out towards Nightmare. It was less of a conscious decision and more muscle memory that had Nightmare reaching out to meet Dream’s hand with his own, taking a small step towards the other as he did so, and letting the familiar touch ground him. Dream smiled at him, small and melancholy, and pressed their foreheads together.

“Please let yourself heal. For once, Nighty, just…” Dream muttered, pleading only slightly. “Give yourself time before you go and throw yourself into something else.”

“Dream…”

“Or at least stay with me for a little bit!” Dream said. “I don’t want you to leave…but I know that I can’t keep you with me forever. So, just stay until you have things sorted? Please? I’d feel better if I knew you had things figured out before you left, instead of just, you know, wandering around until you find somewhere.”

Nightmare sighed, but found he couldn’t really argue with his brother, not when he had a fair point. If Dream was the one in his position, Nightmare would probably feel the same way.

“Alright.” Nightmare conceded. “I’ll stay at home with you until I find a place and figure things out, okay?”

Dream brightened instantly, smile stretching wide across his cheeks, and leaned up to press a kiss to his twin’s forehead.

“Good.” Dream said as he pulled away and walked over to the trunk of Nightmare’s car. “Is that everything then?”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said. “It should be.”

“Alright.” Dream said, shutting the trunk. “Let’s go home then, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nightmare mumbled, opening up the door to the driver’s seat and casting one last look up at the apartment complex he was leaving. As he slid into the car, he swallowed down the lump in his throat and pretended he didn’t see Killer watching him from the apartment window.

~

Nightmare sat in the café, typing away at his computer and sipping occasionally on a lukewarm cappuccino, when the other occupant of the table he sat at returned from the counter with his own steaming mug and a brownie. Nightmare eyed the drink and snack combination.

“Do you ever order anything that doesn’t have chocolate in it?” He asked, going back to his typing.

“Why would I?” Error asked as he popped open his own laptop, a much larger and clunkier thing than Nightmare’s own, and sighed at the screen. “Chocolate is the best thing in the universe, and I was put on this planet to enjoy it.”

Nightmare shrugged. “You do you, I guess. But if you get diabetes I’m _going_ to say I told you so.”

“You wouldn’t be the only one.” Error said. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, but I haven’t seen you around the University lately. Something up?”

Nightmare sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Just…a lot of shit happened, and I dropped out of my degree.”

Error took a bite of his brownie. “Not liking it anymore?”

“Yeah, that’s part of it, I guess.” Nightmare said. “And now I have to find another place to live and talk to my boss about getting more hours and pay of my loan…”

“Jesus Christ!” Error exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing. “Why the hell do you have to find a new place to live? Did the guys kick you out or something?”

“No. Killer and I broke up.” Nightmare said, picking up his mug and taking a sip. “And I decided to move out.”

“Oh, shit…” Error mumbled as his face softened, fluctuating between pity and concern. “I’m…sorry to hear that. I knew you guys had a good thing going.”

“It’s…” Nightmare said, clearing his throat. That damn lump was back. “It’s whatever now. I’m staying with Dream until I find a place and then I’m heading out.”

“If you’re sure.” Error said. “Just don’t push yourself too hard, yeah? Take your time.”

“Mhm…” Nightmare acknowledged, only half listening as he scrolled through some apartment listings a little on the outside of town. When his phone buzzed on the table, he dropped his focus to the small device and picked it up, opening it to a text from Ccino.

**Ccino:** _So, we don’t really need anymore full-time workers atm, according to the boss_

**Ccino:** _But! If you want more work hours, me and a friend of mine are opening up a coffee shop in about a month’s time_

**Ccino:** _I don’t know if that’s really your scene, or if I’m even supposed to be telling you this, but we could use an extra body to run the place if you’re interested_

Nightmare worried his lip as he read over the messages for a second time. It was nice of Ccino to offer him an alternative, since he wouldn’t get the hours he wanted at the animal shelter, but…he wasn’t the most social of people, and coffee shops were extremely social settings.

But he _really_ needed the money…

**Night:** _I wouldn’t mind. Do you need me to meet up with you for an interview or smth?_

**Ccino:** _haha no it’s okay! I’ve worked with you before so don’t worry about it!_

**Ccino:** _you work tomorrow right?_

**Night:** _yeah_

**Ccino:** _alright cool, we’ll talk about it more then, yeah?_

**Night:** _sounds good_

**Night:** _and thanks, Ccino_

**Ccino:** _don’t mention it_ _😉_

Nightmare sighed, feeling both anxious and relieved at the same time. Now if he could just find an apartment in his price range…

His attention was torn away from his thoughts when a third person joined their table, sliding into the seat next to Error. The man’s hair was dyed a brilliant orange, and he wore paint stained overalls over a dirty white shirt, but Error didn’t so much as flinch as the man threw an arm around his shoulders, nor did he look up from his own computer screen.

“Hey there hot stuff.” The other man flirted. “You doing anything tonight?”

“No.” Error deadpanned, otherwise not acknowledging the other. That clearly wasn’t the response that the man was hoping for, as he pouted slightly, but he brightened up when Error cast an amused glance at him from the corner of his eye.

“You’re so mean to me, Ruru!” The man whined. Nightmare raised an eyebrow at Error at the nickname, to which the other only blushed. Raising a hand, Error flicked the man on the forehead.

“And you’re annoying, squidiot.” Error mumbled. The man smiled, small and fond, at Error’s statement and turned steel gray eyes onto Nightmare.

“Who’s your friend?” He asked Error.

“Oh, right.” Error said. “Ink, this is Nightmare. Nightmare, this is Ink.”

Nightmare blinked. _Oh, so **this** is Error’s fiancé _he thought, reaching out a hand for Ink to shake. Nightmare admitted to himself that he was surprised, the two of them just seemed so…different. Error had always reminded him of himself in some ways, introverted and a little brash, and someone who overall didn’t really tolerate clingy or overbearing people. And yet, the artist seemed to be just that. Then again, Nightmare couldn’t really judge could he? After all, he had also fallen for someone like that…

Unwilling, a memory made itself known in his mind.

_“Night!” Killer exclaimed from the kitchen as Nightmare returned home to the apartment, tearing around the corner to scoop his boyfriend up into his arms and spin him around a little, ignoring the surprised yelp the other let out. “How was your day, beautiful?”_

_“Killer! What the hell are you doing?!” Nightmare shouted, flustered. “Put me down you idiot!”_

_In response, Killer just held him tighter, Nightmare’s legs automatically coming up to wrap around the other’s hips. “I just missed you!” Killer whined, nuzzling the crook of Nightmare’s neck. “And I love you…”_

_Nightmare felt himself deflate at the admission, sinking into his boyfriend’s embrace and wrapping his arms around Killer’s neck. “I love you too.”_

When Nightmare snapped out of his reminiscing, he was greeted by the sight of Error typing away furiously at his laptop while his fiancé rested his head on his shoulder, staring at Error with such a peaceful and yet utterly love-struck expression that had something in Nightmare’s chest twisting painfully. Chugging down the last of his drink in hopes that it would help the feeling go away, Nightmare closed his laptop and began packing up his stuff.

“You heading out?” Error asked, noticing the other’s movements.

“Yeah.” Nightmare said. “I should get home and get started on dinner.”

“Alright.” Error said. “See you around?”

“Yeah.”

With his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, Nightmare left the café, nausea churning in his gut.

~

The following weeks were dull, but they passed quickly, in Nightmare’s opinion anyway. He spent the majority of his days either at work or furiously scouring the internet in the hopes of finding a place to live.

Cross had come over a few days prior, both to visit Dream and to ask Nightmare exactly _what the fuck happened between him and Killer_ in the hopes of figuring out why his normally hyperactive best friend was down in the dumps lately. Cross hadn’t been expecting Nightmare to say they had broken up, he had never seen the two of them having problems before, but when he thought to ask _why_ Nightmare had broke it off, and Nightmare responded that he didn’t want to talk about it, Cross understood and gave the eldest twin his space, choosing to go pester the younger one for attention instead.

Dream was worried about him, Nightmare knew that, but that hadn’t really changed. Ever. But, in the privacy of his own mind, Nightmare would admit that he kind of liked the attention. And the affection, but that was besides the point. Dream was _extremely_ worried about him living on his own, but that didn’t stop him from being supportive, as was the way with Dream. Any spare time he had, he was helping Nightmare look for housing, even if it was slightly reluctant.

“I don’t want you to move too far away.” Dream admitted. “I respect that you want privacy and independence, but you are _not_ getting rid of me that easily.”

Nightmare laughed. “What? You think that I won’t miss you no matter where I go?”

When Dream grew silent and slightly downcast, Nightmare stopped scrolling on his computer and looked up at his brother, smile flattening out as his eyebrows pinched together.

“…Hey…” Nightmare began, soft.

“I know, I know.” Dream mumbled, twisting his hands around each other in his lap. “Just…you’re always so eager to get away sometimes that I…”

Guilt flooded Nightmare’s chest as he lifted his laptop off his lap and placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch he and Dream sat at. Then, he reached out and pulled Dream into a hug, tucking his head under his chin. Dream’s arms came up to wrap around Nightmare’s back as the other’s tentacles curled softly around his shoulders.

“Sorry…” Nightmare said. “I just worry that I’m pestering you or…that you might be better off without me.”

“Are you crazy?” Dream exclaimed, sounding genuinely put off by the admission. “I’m better off _with_ you!”

“You’re…sure?”

“I promise.” Dream said, squeezing his twin tighter. “And you don’t pester me. Unless you mean to.”

Nightmare snorted at that, glancing down at Dream as the other made himself comfortable in the embrace and blinking when he momentarily saw someone else in Dream’s position. Someone with fluffy bleached hair. But when he blinked again, Dream’s golden hair greeted him, and the nauseous feeling was back in his stomach.

“Am I…interrupting something?” Cross’s voice came from somewhere behind them, laced with amusement.

“You interrupted him squishing me.” Nightmare said, air promptly leaving his lungs when Dream tightened his hug. “Dream!”

“It’s my love!” Dream said with a laugh. “Take it!”

Nightmare wheezed, tentacles freezing and spearing out slightly before they curled around Dream’s arms in an attempt to pry the other off. Dream, thankfully relented at the motion, but kept his grip on Nightmare and, smirking, planted one foot firmly on the ground and practically threw Nightmare over his knee and off the couch onto the carpeted floor between the coffee table and the couch. Nightmare let out a sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a yell as he landed harshly on his side.

“You ass!” Nightmare yelled. “This is the shit I get for giving you a hug?”

Dream only laughed and, moments later, the sound was accompanied by Cross’s own laughter. Nightmare sat up, glaring halfheartedly at his brother, and fighting to keep a frown on his face even as his tentacles curled in large looping motions behind his back, pleased to have caused such a reaction.

Gods, he was going to miss this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see, and I'm glad you all have been enjoying the story thus far! <3  
> Then again...we're just getting started >;)  
> -Maggic


	15. Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nightmare gets a fresh start.

It had been about three weeks since Nightmare moved back in with his brother when he finally found a place to live. It was a studio apartment, with large windows, and, although it was really just one massive room with a small bathroom off of it, Nightmare didn’t see a problem with sleeping in the same space as his living room, since he would be the only one living there and he was a tidy person to begin with.

He packed up his stuff to move in by the end of the month, really only bringing the stuff in his room. He would buy a couch and other things later. For now, all he really needed was a place to sleep. Using both his car and Dream’s car, Nightmare was able to transport all of his things.

_Now,_ he thought, gazing up at the apartment complex he would now call his home, _the only issue is getting all this up four flights of stairs…god I hope there’s an elevator…_

Lucky him, there was.

Arms piled high with boxes, Nightmare left Dream behind to fend for himself and stepped carefully into the elevator, humming to himself as it sped up towards his destination. The doors opened again after a moment and Nightmare stepped out into a long hallway, dimly lit with orange tinted lights and an old navy carpet, and began his trek down it, keeping a mental note of which number his apartment was as he glanced at the walls, and doors, on either side of him.

_437…437…_ Nightmare repeated mentally like a mantra. _43…6…so it’s after this on-_

His thoughts came to a halt when the door he had just been about to pass opened… _outward_ …and slammed into the boxes Nightmare had precariously stacked in his hands, and into his face as a result, and sent him toppling backwards onto his ass, boxes falling to the ground around him.

“Oh shit!” A voice came from above him, low and slightly gravely. “Are you okay?”

Nightmare rubbed at his nose in attempt to sooth the jarred feeling the boxes hitting it had caused, eyes darting around to look at the mess he had made instead of at the man who spoke.

“Yeah…” Nightmare mumbled, pushing himself onto his knees. “I’m alright.”

“Sorry.” The other man spoke as he kneeled down to help Nightmare with the boxes. “I really hate how these doors open outwards.”

Upon seeing how the man crouched down to help, Nightmare let his eyes wander up to the man’s face, going still at the sight. The man’s skin was the colour of rich chocolate, accentuating the sturdiness of his jaw and a slightly pointed nose. Atop his head, brilliantly red hair sat in a fluffy tuft, shaved down to the scalp around the sides and, Nightmare assumed, the back of his head, and his right ear was littered with piercings that Nightmare thought suited him incredibly well. As if he could feel Nightmare’s gaze, the man raised his eyes from where he was helping gather the fallen boxes and their eyes met.

Dark, dark eyes. Endless pools of a brown so dark they appeared black, so dark the pupil blended in with the iris.

_So dark they rivalled Killer’s own eyes._

Caught staring, Nightmare directed his attention back to his current predicament and fought down the heat rising to his face. Quickly gathering the boxes that he could, Nightmare staggered to his feet.

“T-thanks…” Nightmare muttered.

“No problem.” The man replied, smirking slightly as he held out a key. “You might need this, though.”

Taking the key from the man’s grasp, Nightmare fought against the urge to say ‘thanks’ again. “Yeah, I might…”

The man gave a soft chuckle. “You moving in here?”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said. “Next one down, actually.”

“Oh, sweet!” The man said, sounding genuinely excited. “So, you’re my new neighbour then, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Cool. My name’s Hate.” The man introduced himself with a bright smile.

“Nightmare.” Nightmare responded. Hate blinked, surprise written all over his features, before his grin came back full force.

“Really?” He asked incredulously. “That name is badass!”

“You think so?” Nightmare said with a laugh.

“Yeah?” Hate said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Kind of a long name though. You got a nickname?”

“Pretty much everyone I know calls me Night.”

“Must get kinda boring if everyone calls you the same thing though, right?” Hate said. “Hmm…let me think of something…can I call you Mare? Just to switch things up a little.”

Nightmare, unsure of why he was becoming flustered at the new nickname, hid his face a bit behind the boxes he was carrying. “That’s fine.”

“Great!” Hate said. “Do you have more boxes downstairs? I’m not up to anything right now, so I can help out if you want.”

“I appreciate the offer.” Nightmare said, walking the few more steps to the door of his apartment. “But I’ve already got a helper. He just…got stuck in the elevator or something.”

“I _did not_ get stuck in the elevator, thank you very much.”

_Speak of the devil._

Dream wandered down the hallway towards them, two large boxes stacked in his arms. He peered around them to stick his tongue out at his brother before taking notice of the other person present and smiling pleasantly.

“Oh!” Dream said. “Did you meet one of your neighbours already, Nighty?”

“Uh, yeah.” Nightmare said, hating introductions more and more with every passing second. “Dream, this is Hate. Hate, this is my brother Dream.”

Hate laughed. “I like the name correlation. Nice to meet you, Dream.”

“Nice to meet you too!” Dream said.

“…Well…” Hate said, looking between the brothers. “I guess I’ll get back to doing what I was doing. Nice meeting you both!” Then, with a wave over his shoulder, Hate shut his apartment door and headed down the hallway. Dream looked at Nightmare.

“He seems nice.” Dream said, watching his brother unlock his own door and kick it open with a foot.

“Yeah.” Nightmare mumbled as they walked into the very bare apartment space. “Thank god for that.”

They set the boxes down on the floor by one of the closet doors and sighed, looking around the empty room and squinting at the sheer amount of sunlight pouring in through the two large windows that lay ahead of them.

“Curtains.” They both muttered at the same time, sharing a look.

“We’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Dream said. “You need dishes and cutlery too.”

“Yeah.” Nightmare agreed. “Let’s just get all my shit up here first before we worry about that.”

~

Cross was worried.

Don’t get him wrong, he understood that breakups were hard, and that they took a long time to move on from, but…

Killer was worrying him.

He’d gone over to his friend’s apartment a lot recently since he’d heard about Killer and Nightmare breaking it off, and of Nightmare moving out immediately afterwards, and he could honestly say, in his seven or so years of knowing Killer, Cross had _never_ seen him this low.

For one, Killer spent a lot more time in his room, lying in his bed for hours even if he wasn’t sleeping, and yet he always looked incredibly exhausted every time Cross saw him out of there. He was quieter and didn’t smile as often, the natural smile he always used to wear growing faded and forced. There were also times when Killer would grow distant, staring into space as he got lost in his own thoughts.

So, yeah, Cross was worried.

But he wasn’t the only one.

“Kils, you gotta eat something.” Horror pestered, attempting to drag Killer from the couch to the kitchen by his arm.

“I’m not hungry.” Killer responded, monotone.

“Bullshit.” Horror said. “You haven’t eaten in three days and I am _not_ above spoon feeding you 'cause you’re acting like a child.”

“Horror, please…”

“We’re worried about you.” Dust piped in from the dining table, notes scattered around him. “You’ve been like this for a month, it’s not good for you.”

“I’ll be fine.” Killer said.

“But you’re _not_ right now.” Horror pointed out.

“Killer.” Cross said, voice soft in comparison to the other three. “We know the breakup was hard on you, okay? And we know you’re hurting right now, but…you need to take care of yourself.”

“…I don’t want to…” Killer mumbled.

“You have to.” Dust said. “Because regardless of everything that went down between you two, you _know_ Nightmare would hate to see you like this.”

The silence that descended after Dust spoke was almost palpable in the air, and Cross watched Killer tug his arm free from Horror grasp and turn to leave.

“I’ll eat later.” Killer promised. “For now, just…leave me alone, okay?”

The trio watched in silence as Killer made his way back to his room and shut the door behind him.

~

Dream swiped a hand across his forehead as he placed his end of the mattress down on the floor, immediately collapsing onto it with a tired groan.

“Finally…” Dream said, though it was muffled by the mattress. “I didn’t think you had so much stuff…”

Nightmare was quick to follow his brother’s example, falling to the mattress beside him. “I know, right? What time is it?”

Dream shifted a bit as he worked his phone out of his pocket, turning on the screen and groaning again. "Almost six."

“And I still have to unpack all this shit…” Nightmare said as he stared at the vaulted ceiling above him. Huffing, he turned his head to face Dream. “Pizza?”

“If you’re paying.”

Groaning as he was forced to sit back up, Nightmare shrugged off his hoodie and stood, stretching his arms above his head, and wincing as his tentacles copied the movement. He made his way over to the relatively small kitchen area, picking up his phone from where he’d left it on the counter.

“You know,” Nightmare began, searching up the Domino’s phone number, “we probably could’ve been done with all these boxes in _at least_ half the time if I had these stupid things helping out.”

“Probably.” Dream agreed. “But you probably would have been kicked out if anyone had seen them.”

“True…” Nightmare said, dialling the phone number and lifting his phone to his ear, silent as it rang.

Some undetermined amount of time later, when the pizza had arrived and they were sprawled out on the floor eating it as they unpacked a few of the smaller boxes, Dream spoke again.

“Can I stay tonight?” He asked, tearing into a box with his car keys. “I don’t know how long we’ll be unpacking for.”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said.

Any other time, he would have told Dream that he didn’t need help, that the other could go home and he would be fine. Nightmare knew he could handle putting together his bed-frame or unpacking a few boxes by himself, but he knew Dream didn’t want to leave, so, he’d let his twin stay and enjoy the other’s company while he still had it.

And, if he woke up the next morning to the sun beating down on him with Dream nestled closely against him and his tentacles and arms wrapped tightly around him, then maybe he’d admit to himself that he didn’t want the other to leave either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! I'm so pumped to get this chapter out to you guys cause this is where stuff reeeaaally starts to change and take off and I'm so excited!  
> That being said, I wanted to encourage you guys to keep an eye on this fic's tags as they will most likely be changing a lot coming up!  
> As always, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see! <3  
> -Maggic


	16. Someone Nice

The first few days of Nightmare moving into his apartment were hectic. Between working, unpacking, and shopping, Nightmare barely had a free moment to spare. Ccino’s café had only really opened a day or two ago, and Nightmare had been apprehensive about his first shift, which had been yesterday, but it…hadn’t been so bad. The café wasn’t really busy, so it wasn’t so bad, but Nightmare still felt out of his element. He hoped that after the shit-show that was his first shift, after him stumbling awkwardly through people’s orders at the till, Ccino might take mercy on him and stick him on the espresso machine or something. The anxiety of having to potentially do that all over again today was almost enough to persuade Nightmare to roll over and turn off his alarm, but, alas, he had bills to pay and food that he should probably buy. So, he rolled out of bed and started his day. He dressed simply, in a pair of black jeans and a dark t-shirt, hiding his tentacles under an old hoodie of his and praying to whatever god was out there that Ccino wouldn’t invest in a uniform that didn’t allow him to hide his other appendages. They twisted, agitated, against his back under the sweater and Nightmare sighed. Quickly, he made himself a slice of toast that was plain save for a smear of butter, and ate it as he brushed his hair, never really having the stomach to eat very early in the morning. When he was finished, he brushed his teeth and grabbed his book bag and keys, slipping into a worn-out pair of runners and opening his front door.

Coincidentally, his neighbour’s door opened at about the same moment. Hate stepped out, momentarily stunned to see Nightmare standing there, before he smiled.

“Hey there, stranger.” Hate said. “You’re heading out early.”

“I have an opening shift this morning.” Nightmare replied as he locked his door. “And if I want to get parking I have to leave early.”

“Do you work downtown?” Hate asked.

“Yeah.” Nightmare said, beginning to walk down the hallway. Hate fell into step with him. “I work at a café that my friend owns.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” Hate said, running a hand through his still slightly messy bright red hair. “But why would you drive your car down there? Parking is hella expensive.”

“I mean…yeah, but…” Nightmare mumbled.

“The Sky Train goes straight downtown.” Hate stated. “You’ve only gotta walk a block or so to the station, and it’s _way_ cheaper than the overpriced parking.”

“I’d assume, but…” Nightmare stalled, feeling a little sheepish. “I’ve never…taken…the train before. I don’t know where I’m supposed to get off.”

Hate smiled at him as he pressed the button for the elevator. “I’m heading down there for my work, so we can go together! That way, I can help you out, so you don’t get lost!”

“I don’t want to bother you.” Nightmare said.

“It’s not a bother.” Hate said, letting Nightmare step into the elevator before him. “I’m taking the train anyway, so it’s not like I’m going out of my way.”

Nightmare raised a disbelieving eyebrow, feeling his tentacles curl and loosen under his sweater. “…Are you sure?”

“Positive!” Hate said as he folded his arms across his chest. “Is your work near the mall? Or on the opposite side?”

“Near the mall.”

“Oh, nice!” Hate cheered. “We’re getting off at the same stop, so all you’ve gotta do is watch when I get off. Then, you’ll be able to find your way on your own next time.”

“What about getting home?” Nightmare asked. “I have no idea what the schedule is.”

“They post the times on the billboard at the station.” Hate explained. “And all the trains follow the same route, so you really only need to listen for your stop.”

“If you’re sure…” Nightmare said.

“If you’re worried about getting home…” Hate said, thinking for a moment. The elevator dinged and opened, exposing the lobby of their apartment to their eyes. “What time do you get off work?”

“Two o’clock.” Nightmare said. “Why?”

“I’m off at one.” Hate said. “I can come stop by when my shift is over, and we can take the train back together.”

Nightmare froze. “I don’t want to ask you to wait for me. I’m sure I could figure it out myself.”

“It’s not an issue.” Hate said. “I promise! Plus, I usually get coffee after work, so it will be like killing two birds with one stone.”

“Alright…” Nightmare said, watching Hate open the door for him with a confused look. Hate was…nice. Too nice. It set off a few alarms in Nightmare’s mind. No one had ever been this nice to him right off the bat, except for…

“Here.” Hate said as he pulled out a phone from his pocket. “It might be easier for me to find where you work if I can contact you. Can I get your number?” Nightmare, although a little put off by the reasoning behind the question, gave it to him.

They made pleasant conversation as they walked to the train station. Hate wasn’t actually a bad person to talk to. In a way, he reminded Nightmare of Error just a little bit, he had a similar sense of humour. His energy was definitely more similar to Killer though…the way he carried himself was too…Nightmare decided not to think about it, and let himself be led to the train.

~

It ended up being a recurring thing, Nightmare walking with Hate to the Sky Train on mornings where they both left their house at the same time, and occasionally, Hate would stop by the café on his way home and wait till Nightmare finished working. It was nice, Nightmare supposed, to have a friend close by. He had every intention to keep in contact with the guys at his old apartment, hell he’d stayed in contact with Error, but things…just seemed easier if he didn’t. Error wasn’t as close to Killer as everyone else was, and Nightmare found himself longing for distance even as part of himself protested. All in all, things were really starting to feel like a fresh start.

Lounging on his bed with a book in hand, as he had yet to buy a couch, Nightmare stiffened and tore his gaze away from the pages. It smelled like something was burning, badly, but he wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from…

“Shit!” Came a loud shout from the wall to his right, and the burning smell intensified.

Scrambling to his feet, book forgotten, Nightmare _just_ remembered to throw a coat on as he slammed his front door open and ran the few steps to the door next to him. Throwing it open with little regard to knocking, Hate would thank him later. He entered the other’s apartment to the sight of Hate fanning the smoke alarm frantically with a hand towel, blackened smoke seeping out of the oven in the kitchen. Hate startled at the sight of Nightmare in his house, but the look crumbled as laughter overtook him.

“Sorry!” Hate said with a cough. “I should’ve set a timer.”

“No shit!” Nightmare said, gesturing to the oven. “What the hell were you cremating in your oven?!”

Hate cackled. “Just some lasagne.”

“God damn!” Nightmare said, fanning smoke away from his face. He rushed past the oven and threw open one of the windows, hoping to air out the place and not set off the alarm.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t cook that again.” Hate laughed. “Sorry for freaking you out.”

“It’s fine.” Nightmare said. “I just didn’t want you to burn down the building.”

“That’s fair.” Hate said as he stopped fanning his smoke alarm, deeming the smoke from the oven cleared out enough for the device to not activate. “Welp. There goes my dinner. Oh well…”

“Is that all you had?” Nightmare asked.

“Nah, I’m sure I could find some noodles or something somewhere.” Hate said.

Nightmare pondered for a moment. On one hand, Hate said he could figure something out and he seemed to be a somewhat capable individual, on the other hand, Hate had been incredibly helpful to him for the past week or so and _maybe,_ just maybe, he wanted to try to return a little bit of that kindness.

“Hey…” Nightmare began, feeling a little awkward. “I’ve got some extra casserole in my fridge if you want it?”

Hate blinked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said. “Consider it a ‘thank you’ for…everything.”

“Well…” Hate said, smiling in a soft sort of way that did strange things to Nightmare’s gut. “If you insist. Do you want me to come grab it or?”

“I’ll go grab it.” Nightmare said, knowing his room was still in a state of disarray.

He left the apartment and went over to his own, fighting the growing feeling of guilt that simmered beneath his rib cage without him realising why it was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare: Who put the toaster oven on six?! That's not even good toast! Four is good toast, five is burnt toast, but six?! What were you cremating in my toaster oven?!  
> Anyway  
> Thank you guys for over 2000 hits! You're all amazing people and I love you! <3  
> I don't have much else to say, but I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! <3  
> -Maggic


	17. Thinking About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to chemistry, alcohol is a solution  
> However,  
> The author encourages you not to use it to fix your problems  
> XD

By the time the end of the month rolled around, Nightmare was in a mood. Not a good one. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling, there were a lot of things, but all of them mixed together, simmering low in his gut without him ever pausing to think about why they were there, and suddenly caught up to him and overwhelmed him. At first, he’d thought he was falling back into one of his depressive episodes, but somehow this was different. More intense, but instead of it making him want to sleep for days on end, like his episodes usually did, these feelings left him restless and wanting to curl up and cry at the same time.

Nightmare wasn’t a stranger to that last bit, the whole curling up and crying thing, but the restlessness was new. His brain couldn’t seem to stop racing from one thought to the next. It brought up things Nightmare would rather not think about, memories he would rather forget, and he honestly just wanted to _stop_ thinking for a day.

Buying more vodka than could be safely ingested by one person was not his most brilliant of moments, hell he didn’t even really like vodka, but the point of all this was to _stop thinking_ for a little while, even if he chanced the hangover that would most likely follow. At least he didn’t work tomorrow.

Nightmare let out a long breath as he eyed the bottles he had purchased, unable to help wishing Dream was visiting. It was always more fun drinking with someone else, and Dream was a lot of fun when he had a few drinks in him, plus, a distraction other than alcohol would be welcomed right about now. Still, Nightmare had spent a fair bit of his money on all this and he would not let it go to waste. He eyed the microwave clock.

_4:36 pm._

That wasn’t too early to start drinking for the night. He’d seen Dust start as early as noon before.

_And there goes my stupid brain again…_ Nightmare thought with a shake of his head. _Stop thinking about them, dammit!_

Finally deciding enough was enough, Nightmare crossed his kitchen to one of the cupboards and pulled out a tall glass, setting it down on the counter as he opened the fridge and pulled out a container of pineapple juice. Filling the glass about halfway with the juice, he left the container on the counter and worked open one of the three bottles of vodka. The one he was working at was apparently coconut flavoured and, although he hated coconut, he did like pina coladas quite a bit. He filled the rest of the glass with the vodka, and pulled out a spoon to give the mixture a half-assed stir. Placing the spoon down with little regard of where it landed, Nightmare took a few rapid chugs of his drink as he made his way towards his bed, grabbing the vodka bottle and the carton of pineapple juice as an afterthought. By the time he had polished off the glass, he was left feeling pleasantly fuzzy headed, thoughts so jumbled and incoherent that he could no longer make them out. Pleased, but not fully satisfied, Nightmare poured himself another glass.

~

_Fuck…fuckfuckfuck **fuck!**_

Nightmare groaned from his curled-up position on his bed, tentacles wrapped tightly around him, as if they meant to soothe his rapid breathing and trembling form. He took in a breath, but it was shaky and wet sounding, catching somewhere on the back of his throat until it sounded more like a winded sob than an exhale. Rubbing angerly at his eyes, he internally begged the tightness in his chest to stop.

He was barely halfway through the bottle, and he had never been much of a lightweight, and he was already losing so much control over how his body was reacting to things. His empty glass gleamed at him from the darkness, _fuck_ he should really turn on a light, and if he wasn’t currently shaking so violently from trying to repress the sheer amount of _everything_ that was overwhelming him, he would have reached out to it and poured another glass. Nightmare had no idea what time it was, but it was late enough for the sun to have set and his apartment to be plunged into semi-darkness, only broken up by the shimmer of the city lights peaking in through his windows.

Smothering a hiccup, Nightmare pressed his face into the sheets of his mattress, inhaling the scent of his detergent.

Vanilla.

_Vanilla, like a jacket that was simultaneously too large and too tight on him. Vanilla, like a late weekend morning, curled up against familiar warmth and not willing to get up just yet. Vanilla, like high, sharp laughter that bounced around in his skull far after the noise itself had ceased. Vanilla, like deep, dark eyes that always held so much warmth in them whenever they met his own. Vanilla, like a whisper of his name tumbling from soft pinkened lips…_

_Vanilla was Killer’s scent._

A sob tore violently from Nightmare’s throat, startling him enough that he pressed a hand over his mouth.

**_Fuck…_ **

He curled tighter in on himself, feeling his dam crack. His bed was warm, so warm and comforting right now, but it smelt so strongly of vanilla, so strongly of someone who _wasn’t there anymore_ , that Nightmare didn’t know if he wanted to press into the mattress and surround himself in that scent or scramble as far away from it as possible. Eventually, his drunken mind won out and he sought out the comfort that familiar scent provided, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

_“What’s wrong, babe?” A voice rang out, cutting through the blankets he had thrown hastily over his head._

_“Leave me alone.” He croaked back. He regretted speaking almost immediately after, noticing the way his voice trembled._

**_Weak_ ** _… **pathetic** … His thoughts echoed, and he fought down the whimper that escaped his lips in response. Gods, why now? Why out of all the times? He had been doing fine, he had everything going exactly the way he wanted it to, so why? Whywhywhywh-_

_Gently, something settled itself on the mattress at his back, throwing an arm loosely around his still bundled and hidden form, and pulled him to its chest. The heartbeat and the accompanying warmth were instantly familiar, and he loathed the way he melted into it._

_“I don’t want to leave you alone.” The voice said, soft and rumbling. “Not when you’re like this.”_

_“Killer…” Nightmare whined. “Please…”_

_Killer curled around him, encasing him in his warmth as he tucked Nightmare’s head into the crook of his neck._

_“Shhh…” Killer hushed. “Just let me be here for you, okay? You don’t have to say anything, or explain anything just…let me do this.”_

“Killer…” Nightmare sobbed, muffled by his sheets. “Killer…Killer…” _Damn it! He was supposed to **not** be thinking about him._

Curling his hands desperately into the mattress below him, Nightmare let himself come undone.

_“C’mon, babe.” Killer’s voice mumbled, soft and fond and heartbroken all at once. “You know I hate it when you cry. You’re too beautiful for tears.”_

Nightmare wailed and, startled by just how loud it was, reached out to grab one of his pillows, pressing it harshly against his face and spiralling back down into his memories, vanilla all around him.

_“Let it out, love. I’m right here. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”_

“Fuck…” Nightmare choked. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, **fuck!** ”

This _had not_ been the plan. The drinks were supposed to inhibit his thoughts, supposed to stop his mind from wandering down a path it had been going down too often lately. He _wanted_ to forget about Killer. He _wanted_ to move past all they had been so he could start over, so he could worry about himself and _what the fuck he was supposed to do now_.

And yet, he found he just _couldn’t._

As his tentacles shifted along his back, unconsciously trying to soothe him, Nightmare swallowed down another sob. Every touch, every smell, every _sound,_ brought back memories of someone Nightmare had been _sure_ he had loved, or at least could grow to love, and then…

**_“You messed it up.”_** That traitorous voice inside his head chimed. **_“Sure, he told Dream, but if you weren’t such a dramatic bastard about telling your brother, Killer might still be around. You two might still be together.”_**

Nightmare whimpered, pressing the pillow harder against his face, tears soaking the fabric. _‘Shut up.’_

**_“But I’m right. And you know it.”_** The voice said. **_“You didn’t deserve him. You never did. He’s far too nice a person for you to deserve.”_**

_‘Shut. Up.’_

**_“And you broke his heart, just like you always knew you would. You can’t let go of your own pride for one god damn second, can you?”_ **

_‘Please…’_ Nightmare felt another sob build in the back of his throat, face scrunching up as he fought it off again. _‘Please just shut up!’_

**_“You’re disgusting. Look at yourself! Crying over him as if you deserve to miss him. Pathetic.”_ **

The sob broke free as he curled into a ball, face pressed tightly against his pillow, arms and tentacles wrapped tightly around his knees.

A knock at his door broke through his spiralling thoughts and startled him enough that he sat up, tears running fatly down his cheeks, violet eyes puffy and rimmed in red. Nightmare squinted at the door as he dried his cheeks, body still trembling. The knock sounded again.

“Mare?” The familiar voice of Hate called out.

Wisely, Nightmare refrained from answering, too much of an emotional wreck to trust his voice to behave.

“…Are you okay?” Hate said after a minute of silence.

_‘Fuck…’_ Nightmare thought. ‘ _He heard me…’_

Unsure if Hate would go away unless prompted, Nightmare rolled over and rose from his mattress onto unsteady legs. And, in his defence, he managed to make it almost halfway to the door before the world around him spun and he wound up slamming into the floor on his side, tentacles also too out of it to provide any sort of cushioning. At the sound of him hitting the floor, the knocking on his door grew in volume and urgency.

“Mare? I’m coming in.”

His front door creaked open, but Nightmare couldn’t find himself caring. Not that his tentacles were blatantly out in the open, or that he couldn’t remember if he had locked his front door or not. Instead, he pressed his forehead into the blissfully cool hardwood beneath him and willed the room to stop spinning. The pain of the fall registered late, and once again he found himself blinking back tears, emotions that he had _just_ managed to push back down flooding to the surface again, pain acting as their conductor.

“Shit.” Hate mumbled, and suddenly Nightmare felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“’M fine…” Nightmare slurred, pressing himself up on shaking arms. He looked up and met Hate’s eyes, dark like Killer’s, and blinked through a fresh wave of tears, swallowing the lump in his throat as he dropped his gaze back to the floor.

Hate sighed and spoke softly, so quiet it rumbled through his chest. “It’s just one of those days, huh?”

Nightmare managed a nod.

“…Gotcha…” Hate said. “…Well…let’s at least get you off the floor.”

Gently, he grabbed one of Nightmare’s wrists and brought Nightmare’s arm over his shoulders, reaching across Nightmare’s back, between his tentacles, to place a hand on his side. Then, slowly, he got to his feet, pulling Nightmare up with him. The world spun violently again, and Nightmare leaned more heavily against Hate, too incapacitated to really care. Together, they made their way over to Nightmare’s bed and, when they were close enough, Nightmare let go of Hate’s shoulder and fell the rest of the way onto his mattress. Hate chuckled, eyeing the half empty bottle on the table by Nightmare’s bed.

“Alright.” Hate said, grabbing the bottle and walking into Nightmare’s kitchen. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water. You look like you need it.”

Nightmare leaned against the headboard of his bed, pillow held tightly to his chest and knees pulled in tight. He felt the need to cry begin to grow again the longer he remained where he was. Alone.

But then, there was a full glass of cold water being pressed into his hands and Hate was smiling down at him, patient and understanding.

“You should try and drink all of this before you think of passing out.” Hate said with a little laugh. “I’ll be honest, I never pegged you for a vodka drinker.”

“’M not…” Nightmare mumbled into his pillow, taking the glass with both of his trembling hands. “Jus’ wanted t’get drunk…” In the hopes of distracting himself, Nightmare downed the water in less than a minute and held out the empty glass, which Hate took back with a chuckle.

“I get it.” Hate said. “Well, if you’re sure you’re alright, I’m gonna head back to my place.”

_No._

“Don’t…” Nightmare said, reaching out to Hate and grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Please…I…”

_I don’t want to be alone right now._

“Stay…”

_My thoughts are too loud to handle on my own._

Later, when he was sober, Nightmare would feel incredibly embarrassed over such a request, but right now his drunk mind wanted comfort. Comfort that wouldn’t remind him of everything he had left behind.

Hate gave a surprised blink to Nightmare’s request. “Are…are you sure?”

Nightmare nodded vigorously. “Yes…please…”

Thankfully, Hate didn’t say anything more. He sat down on the bed next to Nightmare, back also propped up against the headboard, and spread his arms slightly. That was all the permission Nightmare really needed, and he uncurled himself enough to slot himself easily into Hate’s arms. Face pressed into the fabric of his shirt, arms and tentacles unconsciously wrapping themselves eagerly around him. If Hate was put off by the other extremities, he didn’t voice it, running a hand soothingly up and down Nightmare’s spine between where the extra limbs protruded.

“…Hey…” Hate whispered after a moment of silence, breath hot against the top of Nightmare’s head. “Whatever you’re going through right now, it’s gonna get better. Okay? I promise.”

Nightmare was suddenly too exhausted to respond, emotionally drained and feeling the onset of a terrible migraine. So, he let his eyes slip shut, falling asleep to the smell of cigar smoke and gasoline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun, wasn't it?  
> Poor Nighty really needs to learn better coping mechanisms  
> Hope you guys liked this chapter! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see! <3 <3  
> -Maggic


	18. Thanks...

When Nightmare finally left the clutches of sleep, he was greeted by a splintering headache. It began at one temple, and worked its way across his forehead to the other one, spreading down to his eyes and even his nose. His chest burned and he found himself groaning, rolling over in his bed and pressing a pillow down over his head to block out the light from the sun, cursing the fact that he hadn’t put up his curtains yet.

There came a chuckle from somewhere to his right, low and soft, and a whispered voice followed it. One that Nightmare’s brain blearily recognised.

“Hangovers are a bitch, aren’t they?” Hate mumbled, keeping his voice quiet. “If you want to sit up, I have some water and painkillers for you.”

Suddenly, memories of the night before washed back into Nightmare and he pressed the pillow down harder over his head, blushing all the way down his neck. He barely knew Hate, and his drunk self was sad and lonely enough to convince the guy to cuddle him?! What was wrong with him?!

Thankfully, Hate interpreted the motion as Nightmare not wanting to raise his head for the drink and tablets.

“Come on.” Hate encouraged. “I know your head hurts, but it’ll hurt less if you take this.”

Nightmare waited until he was sure his flush had diminished to an acceptable level before he pulled the pillow from his head, tossing it off to the side and working up the strength to open his eyes. The light was unbearable through his eyelids, and he knew it would only be worse if he actually opened them. Wincing, he peeled his left eye open, squinting at the blurry image of Hate, sitting on the side of his bed and looking down at him with an amused smirk. Nightmare felt his blush return.

“Think you can sit up on your own?” Hate asked, eyebrow raising. Nightmare nodded and winced again as the motion jarred his head.

Slowly, he pushed himself up with an arm, until he was leaning awkwardly on it and not one hundred percent upright. Still, it was enough to drink water and Nightmare really didn’t want to sit up any further. Sensing that he wouldn’t be moving from that position, Hate held out a glass of water to Nightmare.

“Have a bit first, then I’ll give you the meds.” Hate said. Nightmare grumbled a bit but complied, and soon enough he had downed the pills and the entire glass, passing it back to Hate.

Hate took it with a small grin and left to deposit it in the kitchen sink, leaving Nightmare’s bedside and allowing him to fully process last night’s actions.

It wasn’t news to Nightmare that he got a little sad when he drank, it was just the kind of drunk he was. Alcohol brought out his emotions like nothing else did, and it was one of the reasons he usually avoided drinking too much, unless he was around someone who knew all of this already, namely Dream, and who wouldn’t judge him too harshly if he burst into tears or became the clingiest motherfucker alive. He _knew_ all this about himself, and he had _still_ wanted to avoid thinking so coherently that he forgot what he was like while drunk to the point where he had not only drank half a bottle _by himself_ , but he also managed to persuade Hate, who he had only known for about a month tops, to _cuddle_ with him.

It was _mortifying._

“So,” Hate started as he returned to his spot on the side of Nightmare’s bed, folding a leg under himself as he sat back down, “do you think you’ll be able to handle yourself or should I stick around for a bit?”

Nightmare frowned, eyes glued to the blankets pooled around his waist. “…I’ll be fine…”

“You’re sure?” Hate said, voice full of concern. Nightmare looked up and the sight of soft dark eyes made him look hastily back down to the sheets.

“I’m sure…” Nightmare mumbled.

“Alright.” Hate said as he rose to his feet and made his way to the door of Nightmare’s apartment. “I’ll see you around then. Make sure you lock your door if you’re gonna take a nap, there’s some pretty sketchy people that live in here.”

“I will…” Nightmare said, watching him go and working up the strength to say what he wanted to. “And Hate?”

The taller turned on his heel, running a hand through vibrant red hair. “Yeah?”

“…Thanks…” Nightmare said, keeping his eyes on his sheets. “For…everything…it wasn’t smart of me to get drunk like that…especially since I get kinda…you know.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hate said with a laugh. “I get it. If it makes you feel better, I strip and dance when I drink too much.”

Nightmare laughed and winced as the force of it made his head throb. “Are you sure? I didn’t want to pressure you into anything…”

“I mean it. Don’t worry about it.” Hate said, waving away Nightmare’s comment. Then, he paused to think for a moment. “Though…if you feel like you have to make it up to me or something…”

“What is it?” Nightmare asked.

“Well…” Hate said, turning to Nightmare with a wide smile. “Let me take you out to dinner?”

Nightmare froze. As if sensing his apprehension, Hate chuckled and raised his hands.

“It doesn’t have to be anytime soon.” Hate said. “I get it. You have a lot of stuff to work through or you might not be interested. It doesn’t have to be a date, just let me treat you.”

Nightmare blinked. “Oh…kay…”

“Alright.” Hate said with a nod. “I’ll head out now, but give me a shout when you’re available for dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Kay.” Hate said, opening the door and stepping out. “See you around!”

The door shut behind him and Nightmare could finally breathe again. His headache had worsened, the light was burning, and he honestly needed more sleep. So, as much as he wanted to text Dream and tell him what happened, he decided instead to fall back to sleep.

Not without stumbling to his feet and locking his door first, though.

~

“So,” Dream began, cradling his mug of coffee with both hands as he leaned across the table, “what’d you invite me to coffee for, Nighty?”

Nightmare raised an eyebrow at his twin over the rim of his own coffee cup. “Do I need a reason to invite my brother out for coffee?”

“No.” Dream said with a laugh. “It’s just…normally you have something you want to talk about when you ask me to join you for coffee.”

“You know me too well.” Nightmare grumbled, placing his cup down. Dream giggled.

“Obviously. I’ve known you my whole life, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t.”

“Alright.” Dream said, placing down his coffee as well. “What’s up?”

“So,” Nightmare said, leaning his chin on the palm of one of his hands. “You know that Hate guy I’ve been telling you about?”

“Your neighbour?” Dream clarified. “The one you’ve been hanging out with?”

“Yeah, that one.” Nightmare said.

“What about him?” Dream asked.

“Well…he asked me out.”

Dream blinked at him. “Are…are you serious?”

“Yup.” Nightmare said.

“And what did you say?” Dream said, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“I was stunned.” Nightmare said. “I didn’t really know what to say. He said there was no rush, but he wanted to take me to dinner one night.”

“Huh…” Dream hummed. “And?”

“And what?” Nightmare asked.

“Will you?” Dream said. “Go out to dinner with him, I mean.”

“I…” Nightmare stumbled, frowning. “I don’t know…”

He paused, heaving a sigh and rubbing at his face with a hand in frustration.

“God damn…” Nightmare said. “I feel like none of this would have happened if I wasn’t such a fucking idiot three days ago…”

Dream frowned. “What happened three days ago?”

“Ughh…” Nightmare groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just…I got really fucking drunk in my apartment and he heard me crying and came over and I was super clingy and…ugghhh…I was so embarrassed.”

“So…what?” Dream said, humour lacing his voice. “He stayed with you?”

Nightmare nodded into his hands.

“And nothing else…happened?” Dream asked levelling him with a stare only a sibling was able to pull off. “Right?”

“No, nothing else happened.” Nightmare said as his hands fell back to the table. “I just got clingy, and a little sad.”

Dream gave a sympathetic hum. “Are you okay? You don’t usually drink on your own.”

“Yeah I’m okay.” Nightmare said. “I just…wanted to stop thinking for a night, that’s all. But god knows _that_ didn’t work.”

“Mm…” Dream hummed, reaching out and resting one of his own hands on top of one of Nightmare’s. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah…” Nightmare mumbled. “I…I just…I can’t stop thinking about him.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I really wish I could…I want to…but I can’t…”

Dream rubbed a thumb over the back of Nightmare’s hand, a silent comfort.

“I understand that you want to move on, Nighty.” Dream said. “I really do, but you _just_ ended things with Killer, and I think you need to take more time to heal from it, all things considered.”

“Yeah, you’re right, and I know you’re right.” Nightmare agreed. “But…I have no idea how to breach this topic. I mean, I spent half an evening incapacitated and _sobbing_ into this man’s chest over the guy I just broke up with until I passed out. And then, when I wake up the next morning, he wants to take me out for dinner? After seeing that clusterfuck?”

“He probably just genuinely likes you, Nighty.” Dream said with a shrug, reaching for his coffee again. “But I think you should tell him that you just got out of a relationship and you’re not quite ready for a new one yet.”

“Yeah…”

Dream took a sip of his drink. “But maybe ask if he’s still up to take you to dinner. Free food is nice.”

Nightmare snorted and Dream smiled into his cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeeeee! I finally have a plan for all this shit!!! YAY!  
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are always lovely! <3 <3  
> -Maggic


	19. Relationship Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare is unsure about a lot of things and gets help from an unlikely source.

Yet again, things seemed to fall into some sort of pattern. Nightmare went to work pretty much every day, taking the train downtown with Hate, and he grew to be quite good at being a barista, or whatever the male equivalent was. True to his thoughts, however, Ccino took him off the register and set him to brewing coffee. Which he wasn’t complaining about, not at all, and if working the espresso machine every day did _anything_ for him, it made him want to buy one for his apartment. He got particularly good at making the different blends that people would order, and although there were always a few people who got pissy, he was relatively confident in his ability to make everything on the menu without an issue.

Ccino was a good boss, but he had been expecting that, and the atmosphere of the café was soothing, cozy almost. It was, however, a café nestled in the busiest part of the downtown area, so by the time Nightmare went on his break with a cup of coffee for his troubles, he was already ready to pass out and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. As he nursed his drink, he pulled out his phone, opening it to a few missed texts.

**_Error:_ ** _you find an apartment yet or are you still looking?_

**_Error:_ ** _Ink’s trying to sell his_

Nightmare frowned as he read over Error’s messages, feeling a little bad for keeping his friend so out of the loop. In fact, he hadn’t seen Error since a few days after his breakup…he should really change that.

**_Nightmare:_ ** _I got one almost two months ago, I prolly should have said something. Sorry._

**_Error:_ ** _don’t worry about it, you’ve got your own life_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _so_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _you two are moving in together huh?_

**_Error:_ ** _I can feel you smirking through the screen. Knock it off_

**_Error:_ ** _but yeah, we are_

**_Error:_ ** _back to the original subject: where’re you living now?_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _you asking for my address like the creep you are?_

**_Error:_ ** _wow okay bitch don’t tell me_

Nightmare chuckled a little to himself.

**_Nightmare:_ ** _I’m kidding. I live on the western side of downtown_

**_Error:_ ** _near the mall?_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _about a ten-minute train from there_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _I work near the mall so_

**_Error:_ ** _really? Where?_

**_Error:_ ** _and before you call me a creep again, asshole, I’m asking cause I’m at the mall rn_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _that new coffee shop just across the street from the main entrance_

**_Error:_ ** _you work at a coffee shop????_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _yah_

**_Error:_ ** _aight_

**_Error:_ ** _you working rn?_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _on break_

**_Error:_ ** _I’ll come say hi in like ten minutes_

**_Error:_ ** _I need a coffee anyway_

**_Error:_ ** _idk why the hell I wanted to marry an artist but we’ve been in the same store for almost two hours please save me_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _RIP_

**_Nightmare:_ ** _You’re on your own, see ya in a bit_

**_Error:_ ** _see ya_

Placing his phone down, Nightmare sighed and took a sip from his mug. He had kind of missed talking to Error, with all the easy banter they fell into, and even he had to admit to himself, after almost two months of living on his own, he wasn’t the biggest fan of isolation. Sure, the quiet was nice sometimes, but more often then not it just aggravated him, made him search for something to fill it with noise so he wouldn’t feel as alone as he was. Sure, it wasn’t like he cut contact with _everyone_ , but Dream was the only one he talked with on a regular basis, besides of course his new neighbour…

Thinking of Hate…

Nightmare was still a little unsure of what he should do. On one hand, he was really flattered that Hate had expressed interest in him and, from an outside standpoint, he _was_ very attractive. Hate also didn’t seem like a bad person at all. He had shown him nothing but kindness since they’d met, and come to think of it, Nightmare wondered if the reason for that was because Hate was instantly interested in him. Which didn’t make much sense, but it kind of warmed Nightmare’s gut to think about it.

The only issue here was himself, as it always was. Nightmare was sure that he had yet to get over Killer. If the drinking disaster proved anything, it was just how profoundly that whole situation had effected him, showed him how much he missed Killer, missed the one person in the world that made him feel special like no one else ever did. Getting into a relationship with Hate so soon after almost felt like cheating. But he wasn’t with Killer anymore, so why did he feel like that?

“Some fucker almost ran me over on the god damn crosswalk!” A voice complained, and suddenly a similar figure was sliding into a chair across from him, pulling off his coat and running a hand angerly through his hair.

“Shame they didn’t.” Nightmare mumbled into the rim of his coffee cup, ignoring the glare the other sent him and raising an eyebrow when he saw that Error was alone. “Where’s the bae?”

“The _bae_ ,” Error mocked, leaning forward on the table with his arms folded across it, “is still looking at fucking curtains. He’ll find me when he’s done, I’m not dealing with that anymore.”

“Redecorating?”

“Apparently.” Error said as he nodded in thanks at the lady dropping off his own cup of coffee. “I never had a problem with my house, but, for some god forsaken reason, Ink has this vendetta against the colour white. So, he took it upon himself to drag me out here to remodel the entire place.”

“Damn.” Nightmare said. “You must really love him if you’re letting him paint your entire condo.”

Error sighed. “Yeah, but times like this I really don’t know why.”

Nightmare hummed and took another sip of his drink, thinking to himself as he stared down into the swirling beige liquid.

“Error,” Nightmare started, “how long have you been with Ink for?”

“Three years, give or take.” Error said, raising his own cup to his lips. “Why?”

“Did…” Nightmare said. “Were you ever in any relationships before him?”

Error swallowed, eyebrows furrowing, and placed the mug back down before leaning back in his chair.

“No.” Error said. “He was the first relationship I ever had. Don’t ask how it lasted this long, cause I have no idea either.”

“Were you just…not interested?” Nightmare asked.

“That was a part of it, yeah.” Error said with a nod. “The other part was that I had really bad haphephobia in high school, so that kind of deterred any relationship I could have had.”

“Haphephobia?”

“It’s a fear of touch.” Error said. “And you don’t have to say it, I know it’s a stupid thing to fear.”

Nightmare shook his head. “I wasn’t going to say that. I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“Alright.”

“So, then…” Nightmare said as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. “What made Ink different?”

Error sighed and seemed to think for a moment, amber eyes focused on the wall beside Nightmare’s head. Then, slowly, a small smile grew on his face.

“Because he was the only one to give me a chance.” Error said. “He was the only one who cared enough to.” Nightmare nodded, and Error shook himself from his memories. “But you didn’t ask this to hear sap stories of my love life, so why’re you asking?”

This time, it was Nightmare that sighed. “So…there’s this guy I’ve been hanging out with since I moved and…he asked me to dinner.”

“Okay…?” Error said, raising an eyebrow.

“And he’s a _really_ nice guy, but…” Nightmare said, looking back into his cup even though scarce amounts of swirling liquid remained. “But I don’t think I’ve gotten over Killer yet, and I’m scared to go into something new if I don’t know if I can fully commit to it.”

Error hummed. “But are you interested in him?”

“A little.” Nightmare said. “I wouldn’t be opposed to dating him, but…”

“You don’t want to go into a new relationship when you’re not over the last one.” Error said. “That’s understandable.”

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“…I think, you should do whatever you want to do.” Error said, running a finger along the rim of his coffee cup. “If you don’t think you’re ready for a new relationship, I think you should tell him that.”

“You think so?” Nightmare asked.

“It’s your life.” Error said with a shrug. “You should do what you want with it, and not feel pressured into anything you’re not ready for, regardless of what anyone thinks.”

“Yeah…” Nightmare said. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They fell into pleasant conversation, and Nightmare felt a little lighter.

~

When Nightmare finally got off of work that afternoon, the first thing he did was jump in the shower, eager to get the grime of a long days work off and get into some actually comfortable clothes.

When he was dressing, however, he noticed something peculiar as he worked his tentacles through a hole cut in the back of his t-shirt.

Around the base of them, where the tentacles protruded from the skin around his spine, the skin was going a dark, almost purplish, shade. It looked like a bad bruise, but when Nightmare twisted or stretched the tentacles out there was no pain, only a familiar muscle tightness that he knew would never really fade.

Shrugging it off to the stitches there healing weirdly over the year, Nightmare finished pulling on his shirt and left his bathroom.

~

“So…” Nightmare began as he sat playing video games in Hate’s apartment one evening. “About that dinner offer…”

“What about it?” Hate asked, pausing the game and turning to him.

“Listen, I…” Nightmare stumbled as he placed down his controller. “You’re a nice guy and I’m very flattered that you’re interested but…I just got out of a relationship and I’m still…working through a lot and I don’t want to start something and-“

“Woah, woah, hey!” Hate said, raising his hands and laughing. “It’s okay! I understand and…it’s very considerate of you to think of my feelings in all this, so thanks Mare.”

“It’s nothing…” Nightmare said, a little flustered from the genuine compliment.

They went back to the game and finished the round before Hate turned back to him, smiling smugly.

“Do you still want dinner though?” He asked and Nightmare laughed.

“If you still want to treat me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter! As always, comments and kudos are always appreciated! <3 <3  
> -Maggic


	20. Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream kind of hates being the only one in his house sometimes.

Over the years, Dream had gotten used to spending quite a bit of time alone in his house. Of course, that changed significantly the longer he and Cross continued to be together, and Nightmare still made an effort to visit him, but the point was that Dream was used to being alone in the house.

That didn’t mean he enjoyed it, but Dream was, according to his brother, too considerate of a person to ask other people for something, even if that _something_ was as small as visiting for an hour or two. Just enough time to chase away some of the growing loneliness. Cross knew him well enough to be able to tell when the solitary was getting to his boyfriend, and although Dream often insisted he was fine, he also felt flattered that Cross was willing to take time in his busy schedule to come keep him company for a few hours.

Another thing that unconsciously helped Dream curb his loneliness, turned out to be his brother’s tabby, Sunshine. Nightmare never seemed to have any luck finding an apartment space that allowed pets, but since he visited a decent amount of time per month, Dream didn’t have a problem with hanging onto his cat for him, even if the cat was as much of a trouble maker as her owner. That being said, during times like this, when that crippling loneliness reared its ugly head and Cross was busy, the cat was an unexpected comfort, reminding him of just _who_ the pet belonged to and how, no matter how lonely Dream felt in this present moment, he was never really _alone._ Hell, he could pull out his phone and call his brother or his boyfriend right this second and he knew both of them would answer.

Still, it was comforting to have the golden tabby curled up on his lap as he sat at his kitchen table and worked on a homework assignment. It wasn’t due for another week or so, but it never hurt to get a head start, and Dream never knew if his other professors would assign more work within the week. He was counting down the minutes, though, as he knew he would have to start cooking dinner soon, or else he probably wouldn’t eat for the rest of the evening.

He was scratching behind Sunshine’s ears and staring down at his notes when three quick knocks came at his front door. Puzzled, Dream checked his phone to see if Cross or Nightmare had texted him to let him know they were stopping by. When he had no missed texts, he frowned.

“Alright, Sunny.” He said aloud to the cat, lifting it gently from his lap and placing it on the ground as he stood and made his way to the door. “Up we go.”

Taking the staircase down to his front door, Dream spared a moment to look through the peephole to see who was outside. Then, he smiled and pulled the door open, stepping to the side to allow Cross to step inside the house.

“Hey.” Cross greeted as he kicked off his shoes.

Dream shut the door behind him. “Hey. This is a surprise.”

“My phone died.” Cross said, leaning in to press a kiss to Dream’s cheek before making his way up the stairs. He shook the large paper bag in his grasp slightly. “But! I brought something to make up for not letting you know~.”

“Oh, really~?” Dream said as he climbed the stairs after his boyfriend. “I thought you said you were busy tonight?”

“I got off work early.” Cross said. “And the due date for one of my assignments got changed, so I figured why not visit my wonderful boyfriend tonight instead?”

Dream chuckled. “You’re a sweetheart.” He paused to watch Cross set the bag down on his kitchen counter and to meet the other in a quick kiss. “What’s in the bag?”

Looking smug, Cross opened the bag and pulled out a multitude of small plastic containers, spreading them out on the counter top.

“Thai.” Cross stated simply as Dream’s eyes lit up.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.” Dream said as he maneuvered around the counter top and into the kitchen, hugging Cross tightly from behind and smiling as the other flushed at his compliment.

“I try.” Cross said, handing one of the larger plastic containers over his shoulder to Dream, who took it gladly.

Together, they sat down at Dream’s kitchen table to eat. They were quiet for a few minutes as they dug eagerly into their food before Cross raised his head and smiled at him.

“So, how have you been?” Cross asked. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s only been a few days.” Dream said with a giggle.

“Still…” Cross said, pouting. “I missed you…”

“Aww…I missed you too, baby.” Dream cooed as he rested his chin in the palm of one of his hands, resting his elbow on the table. “I haven’t been doing much. Went and got coffee with Night a few days ago but otherwise only school has happened.”

“How’s he doing?” Cross said, taking a sip from his glass of water.

“He’s…managing.” Dream said. “He’s been hanging out with his new neighbour a lot, and they seem to be getting pretty close…”

“You sound kind of concerned about that.”

Dream gave a weak smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m…I’m _really_ happy Night has someone there to look out for him, but this guy just…he gives me weird vibes.”

“You just have a bad gut feeling about him?” Cross asked.

“Kind of. It’s…more than that.” Dream tried to explain. “I know a lot of people don’t believe in the whole ‘sensing energies’ thing but…his energy just feels _wrong_ to me. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Now, Dream’s statement about sensing energies wasn’t completely lost on Cross. Did he expect it from Dream? No, not really, but it _made sense_ in a weird way. After all…

“Well, wasn’t your mom a witch or something?” Cross said with a slight laugh in his voice. “I’m not surprised you can sense energies if that’s the case.”

Dream rolled his eyes. “My mom isn’t a witch she’s just…I don’t know. She’s a lot of things.”

Cross raised an amused eyebrow. “So, I’m not entirely wrong then.”

“Whatever.” Dream said, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend. “That’s besides the point. Anyway, this guy that Night’s been hanging out, who’s name is _Hate_ by the way, asked him out.”

“Really?” Cross said, incredulous. “And what did Nightmare say?”

“He’s still getting over Killer.” Dream said, voice soft and a little sombre. “So, he isn’t quite sure what he should do.”

“But he’s interested in this guy?”

“I guess.” Dream said. “I forgot to ask him that…”

Cross chuckled. “So…you’re a little worried cause Nightmare _might_ take up this guy’s offer and date him, and you’ve got bad mojo?”

“That’s a general summary, yeah.” Dream said with a laugh. “I just…don’t want him to rush through things and get hurt, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Cross said. “But…have you ever really talked to this guy?”

“Nope.” Dream said. “That’s why I don’t really have any valid reason to be concerned. From the way Night talks about him, this guy seems super sweet.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” Cross said, shrugging and going back to his meal. “For now, just stop stressing over your brother, and lets have a nice night together. Okay?”

Dream smiled softly and reached his hand out across the table, taking Cross’s free hand into his own.

“Okay. Sounds amazing.” Dream began, stopping when he remembered something important. “Oh, and Cross?”

“Yes?” Cross answered.

“If you go to hang out with the guys,” Dream said, “maybe don’t bring this up to Killer? I don’t know how well he’ll take knowing Nighty’s got someone else interested in him, and who he may potentially be interested in too.”

“Sounds good.” Cross said with a conspiring wink. “It will be our secret then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop! Chapter 20 is here!!! And with a dash of Cream for y'all, since only people with no soul like their coffee black! XD  
> Hope you guys liked this chapter! As always, comments and kudos are lovely to see! <3 <3  
> -Maggic


	21. There's Always Good to be Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!   
> So, quick warning for this chapter! Nightmare deals with a few intrusive thoughts and there's a subtle reference to past self harm, but I didn't put in anything explicate, just a bit of spiralling on Nightmare's part. Just a warning if anyone is uncomfortable with these things!  
> Keep an eye out on the tags guys, they'll be prone to changing a lot in later chapters and I don't want to trigger anyone! I'll also be putting warnings at the beginning of the chapter if there are any!  
> Thanks guys!  
> <3

There were a few things that Nightmare had come to love about living on his own. His house was always quiet when he needed it to be and loud when he couldn’t stand the silence. He had complete control over everything that happened in that space. Dinner? It was his choice what to make. Cleaning? He chose what days it got done. Rearranging furniture? Whenever _he_ felt like it. For once in his life, Nightmare had complete control over his space.

But from all that good came things that Nightmare hated about living alone.

_He_ had to turn on the TV to make it loud in there, _he_ had to brew himself coffee in the morning and make breakfast for _just_ himself _, he_ had to remind himself of basic things like eating properly and maintaining a sleep schedule.

And _he_ had to wake up to an empty bed and a cold apartment. All. Alone.

Most days, it didn’t bother him. Most days, Nightmare woke up feeling well rested and ready to get on with his day. Most days, he could make it out of bed without much of an issue.

Today was not most days.

Today he found himself staring up at the vaulted ceiling of his apartment, arms splayed on either side of his torso, and tentacles curled around his shoulders and waist. Their grip was soothing, comforting, and when he rolled onto his side, a more comfortable position for the extra limbs, Nightmare could almost pretend they were someone else’s embrace, but there was no warmth to be granted by the extra appendages. The semi-fluid appearance of them housed a surprising chill, noticeable only outside of the warmth of his blankets. Still, although he shuddered when they moved, he had no motivation to get them to move away, nor any idea how to get them to do that.

That was something that bugged Nightmare, the fact that he still had so little control over the extra appendages. Oddly enough, they didn’t seem to have a problem doing what he wanted when he needed something from a high shelf, or an extra arm to hold something, but the second his emotions got involved, the tentacles did only what _they_ wanted, plain and simple. It annoyed him, and made him ponder taking up meditation.

_“I don’t know why you hate these so much, Nightlight.” Killer said, hands brushing across tentacles with a fascinated reverence. “They’re so cool.”_

_Nightmare hummed at the touch, leaning back against Killer’s chest. “They’re weird. And you guys have called me an octopus too many times.”_

_“We’re only teasing.” Killer said as he watched the way the appendages responded to his gentle touch, curling and twisting around his hand and squirming in between his fingers. He grinned and leaned forward to place a kiss to Nightmare’s cheek. “And you’re a beautiful octopus. Like a…like those ones that change colour.”_

_“A cuttlefish or a mimic octopus?” Nightmare asked. “’Cause cuttlefish aren’t octopuses. And I don’t change colour.”_

_“Hmmm…maybe you’re really a squid then.” Killer said. “You’re definitely a cuddle-fish, and I know, personally, that you can turn a very pretty shade of red~.”_

_“Oh, would you **shut up**?” Nightmare complained, elbowing Killer in the shoulder even as he leaned further into the other’s embrace, face going hot. “You have a weird way of flirting…”_

_“Yeah.” Killer agreed, nuzzling his face into fluffy dark hair. “But it works~.”_

_Nightmare decided not to dig himself a deeper hole and instead entered the space in his head, relishing in the soft bliss brought on by the movements of Killer’s fingers along his tentacles and the warmth of his closeness. He stayed there, floating between asleep and awake, and let a relaxed sigh slip from his mouth, the sound morphing into a note of approval as Killer pulled him closer, tucking his head neatly under his chin. Killer curled around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead._

_“I love you, cuddle-fish.” Killer mumbled, but Nightmare was too far into the throws of tired bliss to react to the nickname or give a response._

Nightmare only realised he had dozed off when he opened his eyes to his empty apartment again, ice in his bones. Shuddering, he pulled his blankets tighter around himself and curled up into a ball. God, why was it so cold? His windows were closed, and he had fallen asleep just fine, so why now? Why, suddenly, did the multitude of blankets layered over him feel so much colder than the phantom warmth of Killer around him? Why was he thinking about him again?

Nightmare heaved a weighted sigh and rolled onto his back, tentacles being shoved uncomfortably into the mattress beneath him. He missed being able to sleep on his back. Frustrated, he flipped himself over, tossing the blankets from his body, and burying his face in his pillow. Shit had hit the fan ever since he opened that book. If only he hadn’t opened it…then maybe none of this would have happened.

He wouldn’t have killed those guys if he wasn’t cursed, if he didn’t have such violent tendrils. He wouldn’t have run away from one of the _best_ relationships he ever had if he hadn’t killed anyone. Responding to the sudden swell of hatred inside him, the tentacles curled closely against his back in little knots, the feeling of the motion making Nightmare’s anger grow.

**_~~You should just cut them off.~~ _ **

Nightmare blinked at the familiar voice, sitting up and leaning back on his heels, frowning. Intrusive thoughts weren’t anything new to him, he’d dealt with them for years, but the nature of what this one was suggesting seemed familiar…

Unwittingly, Nightmare’s gaze wandered to his kitchen, to the knife block perched in a far corner of his counter space. To the bread knife that was resting peacefully in its own slot, innocent and unsuspecting.

**_‘It would be so easy.’_ **

**_‘No one would even know, you could be free.’_ **

**_‘You’ve felt worse pain before.’_ **

_‘You’re spiralling again.’_ A quieter voice in his head spoke, jolting him out of his thoughts and making him aware of how he’d been steadily making his way towards his kitchen. Breathing harshly through the pounding of his heart, Nightmare took a step back and turned away from the kitchen, making his way quickly towards his front door as he pulled on a hoodie he'd left on his couch. He just couldn’t handle seeing those _things_ right now. He needed to get away from his house, he needed to not being alone.

Shutting his front door behind him, he walked the few steps to the door next to his and knocked a few times on the hard wood. A few moments later, the door opened and Hate peered out, red hair messy. He raised an eyebrow.

“Mare?” He asked. “I thought you were running errands today?”

Nightmare shook his head, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater. “I was going to but…stuff happened. Are you busy?”

“Not really, I’m just trying to beat _Dark Souls._ ” Hate said with a shrug, turning concerned dark eyes down on him. “You okay?”

_No…_ ”I’m okay.” Nightmare said. “I just…can I come over and hang out?” _I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now._

“Yeah, of course!” Hate said, opening his door a little wider and stepping to the side to let Nightmare in. “As long as you don’t mind me yelling at my television every few minutes.”

Nightmare shook his head as he made his way in. “It’s fine. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it!” Hate shut the door behind him. “It’s not like I’m busy or anything. Make yourself at home.”

Used to visiting Hate’s apartment, Nightmare had no trouble with plopping himself down on in the corner of Hate’s couch, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on top of his knees. Hate crossed the room to him, leaning over the back of the couch next to his head.

“Do you want anything?” Hate asked. “I can make you some tea?”

Nightmare looked up at him and nodded. “…Thank you…”

Hate smiled at him and made his way to the kitchen, where he pulled a kettle out of one of the cabinets and plugged the stand into an outlet, filling the container half-way with water. While the water was beginning to boil, he grabbed a simple black mug from a different cabinet and opened a nearby drawer, looking through his array of tea packets.

“Black or herbal?” He asked Nightmare.

“Do you have chamomile?” Nightmare said, leaning further back into the couch cushions.

“Yep.” Hate said as he pulled out a packet, opening it and pulling out a tea bag that he promptly dropped into the mug. “You don’t want anything in it?”

“No thank you…”

Brushing off his hands, Hate turned around to face where Nightmare sat, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against his kitchen counter. Eyeing Nightmare’s balled up form and the oversized hoodie he wore, Hate raised an eyebrow.

“You know you don’t have to hide those tendrils of yours, right?” Hate said. “I’ve kind of already seen them, so…”

Nightmare startled, eyes flickering up to meet Hate’s own stare before they fell back to the rug. He’d forgotten about that, wanting to remove that night from his memories, but now, faced with it again, he remembered a detail which should have been at the forefront of his thoughts. Hate had seen his tentacles, and didn’t seem at all put off by them, not even when they wrapped tightly around him when Nightmare’s drunkenness had gotten the better of him. He sat up a little straighter and uncurled himself.

“…Why are you so…unfazed by this?” Nightmare asked. “I mean, it’s fucking weird.”

Hate shrugged as he turned off the kettle, pulling it from its stand and pouring the scalding liquid into the mug he’d set aside. Then, he took the mug and made his way back to Nightmare, holding it out until the other took it.

“Yeah, it’s _kinda_ weird.” Hate said, plopping down onto the couch next to Nightmare. “But I can’t really judge. I’ve been able to do weird things since I could practically walk.”

Nightmare raised an eyebrow as he blew on his tea. “Weird things? Like what?”

Hate sighed and turned to face Nightmare, folding his legs underneath him. He raised a hand, and the stupid thought that he was silently asking for a high-five crossed Nightmare’s mind, before his arm from the elbow up turned to inky black vapour. Nightmare stared, wide eyes, as Hate's arm re-materialised from the smoke before Hate did the trick again. Intrigued, Nightmare leaned forward and reached out a hand, passing it through the smoke, half expecting to feel something solid beneath it, but stared at his hand in wonder when it passed through with only the phantom feeling of steam sticking to his skin.

“Wow…” Nightmare breathed. “Can you only do it with your arms?”

“Nope.” Hate said with a shake of his head. “I can turn my whole body into this stuff, but I don’t usually cause my clothes fall right through it haha…”

Nightmare chuckled. “Yeah, I can imagine that can be a bit of a problem. Is there anything else you can do?”

“Well, kind of but…” Hate said, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I’m not sure if it counts and it’s…a little hard to explain.”

“Try me.” Nightmare said, taking a sip of his tea.

“It’s…it’s almost like I can…sense anger?” Hate said. “It’s weird, but I can _feel_ it when people are angry or upset. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“So,” Nightmare began, “you can feel _all_ the emotions of the people around you? Or you can just feel when they’re upset about something?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.” Hate said. “Jeez, I can’t imagine what it would be like to be able to sense _all_ of someone’s emotions...”

“Eh, I don’t think it’s all that bad.” Nightmare said. “My mom was an empath, so she could feel people’s emotions, and I think my brother got some of that from her…”

Hate blinked at him. “Really? So, your brother is an empath too?”

“Not quite.” Nightmare said. “From what he’s told me, he can’t feel a person’s emotions just…their energy, I think he said.”

“Energy?”

“I don’t really get it either.” Nightmare said, shrugging and taking another sip of his drink. “But that’s pretty cool. It seems like it could help you avoid some less than savoury interactions.”

Hate gave an awkward laugh. “Yep, you bet.” He picked up his controller and seemed about to go back to his game before he turned to Nightmare with an amused smile. “You’re pretty lucky though, with those tentacles of yours.”

“How?” Nightmare asked.

“What do you mean ‘how’?” Hate said incredulously. “Do you have any idea the amount of times I’ve wished for an extra hand to hold something? You basically have four extra arms with super strength!”

“I don’t know if they have super strength.” Nightmare mumbled into his mug. “All they seem to do is get in my way or do things I don’t want them to.”

Hate fell silent as he pondered Nightmare’s words, and Nightmare had to resist curling back up, feeling an invisible weight press heavily on his shoulders.

“…I guess some things are only as good as you make them out to be.” Hate said, quiet and melancholy. “And sometimes you’ve gotta look a little harder to find that good than other times.”

Nightmare smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“And what if there isn’t any good to be found?” He asked. “What then?”

Hate looked at him, dark eyes swirling with an emotion that Nightmare couldn’t quite place. Then, he gave a small smile.

“There’s _always_ good to be found.” Hate said. “You just need to see things from a different perspective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, school has started for me, but I'm going to try to maintain a regular upload schedule for this, as I DO want to keep writing this. That being said, my school work is going to come first, so if you guys don't get a chapter for like 2 weeks its prolly cause I'm hella behind in college lmao  
> Thanks for reading guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! As always, comments and kudos are lovely to see! <3 <3  
> -Maggic


	22. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross decides its time to get Dream out of the house.

Dream needed to get out of the house.

Cross could tell, because he knew Dream well enough to be able to notice the subtle changes in the other’s behaviour. Dream got quiet when he was feeling lonely or bored, he didn’t talk as much as he usually did when Cross was around, and that was all the tell Cross really needed to know that he had to get Dream out of his house, at least for an afternoon. It would have been easy to just take his boyfriend out on a walk, or for a nice lunch somewhere, but Dream was a very extroverted person and he, most likely, just needed to be around more people.

So, he decided to drag Dream with him to go visit the guys at their apartment. Dust liked to throw parties, although they were always with just the guys, so it was ridiculously easy to convince him to host another game night. They were a good time anyway, and it had been a while since they all saw Dream.

“Hey.” Cross greeted when the apartment door creaked open, Horror peering out. “I hope it’s not a problem that I brought a plus one?”

Horror shrugged, glancing at Dream over Cross’s shoulder. “Nope. Hey Dream.”

“Hi Horror.” Dream said, smiling pleasantly. “How have you been?”

“No complaints.” Horror said. He stepped to the side and let the other two in, following Cross into the living room as Dream took off his shoes by the front door. “Error brought a plus one too.”

Sure enough, taking up a corner of one of the living room couches, Error sat next to another man with brilliantly pink hair who Cross hadn’t met before. Judging by the way Error had an arm thrown around the other’s shoulders, this must be his fiancé. Cross was pulled out of his thoughts, literally, when Horror grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the kitchen.

“Woah!” Cross exclaimed, stumbling over his feet. “What’s up?”

“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Horror began, “I’m glad you brought Dream. It’s nice to see him again after so long, but…he and Nightmare are _twins,_ Cross.”

Cross’s eyes widened. “Oh shit…”

“Killer has been better.” Horror said. “So, I’m sure he’ll be okay. But…still…”

“God, you’re right. Shit…” Cross mumbled, peering around the corner to look into the living room, where Dream was greeting Killer with a smile and a tight hug.

“Hey, Killer.” Dream was saying, softly. “How have you been doing, hm?”

“…I’ve been better.” Killer replied quietly. “But I’ve been doing okay.”

Dream pulled out of the hug. “I’m glad.”

“Phew…” Cross breathed, relieved, and turned back to Horror. “They seem okay for now. I’ll find an excuse to get leave with Dream if things start going sour.”

Together, they made their way into the living room, Horror grabbing a can or two of beer on his way. Cross sat down next to Dream, who had claimed the opposite side of the couch where Error sat and was talking eagerly to Error’s fiancé in a bright excited voice.

“Hey guys.” Cross greeted.

“Yo!” Dust said as he entered the room, balancing a few board games in his hands. “So! I’ve got _Monopoly_ , if we want to ruin our friendships, _Trouble_ , aaaand _Scrabble_ , but I honestly don’t know where we got it cause I don’t remember buying such a nerdy game.”

“I didn’t bring it.” Horror said.

“It’s probably Nightmare’s.” Dream said. “We had a copy of the game, but I never knew where it went.”

“We also have a bunch of Wii games we could play.” Killer added.

Dust narrowed his eyes at Dream. “I still want a rematch at Mario Kart.”

“You think you can win this time?” Dream teased. Dust’s eye twitched.

“Them's fighting words…”

Error’s fiancé, who Cross believed was named Ink, laughed brightly. “Oooooh someone has beef.”

“Of course he does.” Horror said. “Dust can’t stand losing.”

“Reminds me of someone I know…” Ink said, glancing at Error from the corner of his eyes.

“Hey!” Error cried.

Dream chuckled. “You two are cute. It’s nice to finally meet you, Error. Nightmare told me a lot about you.”

“Uh…” Error said, suddenly looking a little awkward. “Only good things, I hope?” Dream nodded.

“Speaking of Nightmare…” Dust started, oblivious about how Killer tensed next to him. “How has he been holding up in the new place?”

Cross and Dream shared a look before Dream spoke.

“He’s been doing alright.” Dream said. “He’s still adjusting, neither of us have lived on our own before so it’s been a new experience.”

“He got a new job too, right?” Horror asked.

“He did.” Dream said. “He works at a café downtown by the mall with a friend of his from work.”

“A café?” Dust said, incredulous. “Seriously? You’re messing with us.”

“He’s not.” Error interjected. “I visited him on his break a couple of days ago.”

“You guys caught up?” Dust said.

Error shrugged. “Yeah, we talked. He vented to me about that neighbour of his.” Dream’s stomach dropped. “You probably know the one, Dream.”

Six pairs of eyes turned to look at Dream, expectant, and Dream swallowed.

“Yeah…” Dream mumbled. “I know who you’re talking about.”

“Is Nightmare’s neighbour giving him trouble?” Killer asked, eyes concerned.

“No, not really.” Error said. “Apparently, this guy wants to take him out on a date.”

The room fell completely silent, and it was only then that Error seemed to process what he just let spill, gaping and slapping a hand over his mouth. Dream had to make conscious effort to not face-palm himself into the next dimension.

“Oh shi-I’m sorry.” Error said, muffled under his hand. Killer hadn’t raised his eyes from the carpet.

“So?” Killer inquired quietly. “What’s…how does Nightmare feel about that?”

Error seemed hesitant to speak, but sighed and decided it was better to fully explain than leave Killer guessing.

“He’s…” Error began, “unsure. He doesn’t know if he wants to start a new relationship, since he’s still getting over you.”

Killer seemed to perk up a bit and Dream took the opportunity to jump into the conversation.

“I’m not sure about the guy.” Dream said. “I’ve met him, but only once and it was very brief. Nightmare speaks relatively highly about him, but…I get really bad vibes from him.”

“What kind of bad vibes?” Killer asked as he leaned forward in his seat.

“Just…he’s too nice, you know?” Dream said. “His personality doesn’t match the energy he gives off.”

“You don’t trust him?” Killer clarified.

“Not really.” Dream said. “I hate to say this, because I love Nightmare, but he is very easy to get on the good side of if you’re especially nice to him.”

“Why is that?” Horror said. “He had quite the issue trusting us.”

Dream shook his head. “It’s not about trust. Nightmare is just more likely to give people who are kind to him a chance. He’s dealt with a lot of people who have been less than kind to him before, and I can’t help but feel like this guy is playing into that. Like he’s trying to get something from him.”

Killer’s expression darkened and he folded his arms across his chest.

“But you don’t know much about the guy, right?” Killer said.

“No.” Dream said with a frown. “I only know what Night’s told me. Error?”

“He didn’t tell me much, to be honest.” Error said. “I probably know about as much as you, maybe less.”

“Huh…” Killer hummed, scratching the back of his head. An idea seemed to strike him after a moment, and he raised a finger. “Have you tried doing some internet stalking?”

“No…” Dream said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to overstep, cause I don’t know much about this guy. I don’t want Nightmare getting mad at me…”

There was another moment of incredibly awkward silence, which Dust decided to break with a loud cough.

“Well, lets worry about all this later.” Dust said. He narrowed his eyes at Dream. “I have a race I need to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAA fucking S C H O O L and my procrastinating BRAIN!  
> Sorry this took two weeks, and that its not very long, but I kinda didn't want to write this chapter but it needed to happen  
> Regardless, I hope you guys liked it! Comments and kudos are always a great way of kicking my ass into gear XD <3 <3  
> -Maggic

**Author's Note:**

> Whew this was a long one.  
> Might make this a multi-chapter but idk yet. Lemme know what you guys think  
> I don't really got much to say about it, but i hope you all liked it!  
> Comments and kudos are always lovely and appreciated!  
> -Maggic


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